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VANISHED TOWERS AND CHIMES 

OF FLANDERS 
HOLLAND OF TODAY 
BRITTANY AND THE BRETONS 
SOME OLD FLEMISH TOWNS 
MARKEN AND ITS PEOPLE 
THE FOREST OF ARDEN 
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COPYRIGHT 
19 17 BY 
GEORGE 

WHARTON 
EDWARDS 



NOV 10 1917 



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FOREWORD 

Quis funera faudo 
Explicet, aut possit lacrymis aequare Labor es? 
Urbs antiqua ruit, multos dominata per annos; 
Flurima perque vias sternuntur inertia passim 
Corpora^ perque domos, et religiosa deorum Limina! 
(Virgil, Mneid, II. v. 361.) 

Surviving the ancient wars and revolutions in this, 
" the Cockpit of Europe," the great examples of architec- 
ture of the early days of France remained for our delight. 
The corroding fingers of time, it is true, were much more 
merciful to them, but certainly the destroyers of old 
never ventured to commit the crimes upon them now 
charged against the legions of the present invader. 
These fair towns of Ficardy and Champagne are sacked, 
pillaged and burned even as were the beautiful Flemish 
towns of Ypres, Malines, Termonde, Dixmude, and 
Dinant on the Meuse. . . . 



FOREWORD 

Never again shall we enjoy them: the chalices are 
broken and the perfume forever vanished. . . . 

The catastrophe is so unbelievable that one cannot re- 
alize it. The Seven Churches of Soissons, Senlis, Noyon, 
Laon, Meaux, Rheims, St. Remi; these such as man prob- 
ably never again can match, are either razed to the foun- 
dations, or so shattered that it will be impossible to restore 
them. 

It is said that the Imperial Government has promised 
to rebuild these Gothic masterpieces. . . . 

One cannot trust one's self to comment upon this an- 
nouncement. 

Imagine these sacred ruins. . . . Rheims! . . . 
Rheims can never be restored to what it was before the 
bombardment. Let it rest thus. ... A sacred ruin — 
the scarred, pierced heart of France ! 

Likewise " these fair sweet towns " of the middle ages ; 
these wonderful little streets and byways, filled with the 
gray old timbered houses, " old in Shakespeare's day." 
Up to the outbreak of the war there were many of these 
throughout France, in spite of the wave of modernity 
which resulted in so much so called town improvement. 

In Arras the two old Squares, the Grand Place and 
the Petit Place, survived until destroyed by bombs in 
1914. Those double rows of Ancient Flemish gables, 
and the beautiful lace like tower of the Town Hall can- 



FOREWORD 

not be forgotten, although they are now but calcined 
beams and ashes. Between the Seine and the Flemish 
frontier lay a veritable storehouse of incomparable archi- 
tectural monuments. Of these Rouen, with its famous 
Cathedral, is happily out of reach of the guns of the 
invader, and one hopes out of danger. Beauvais like- 
wise has not yet suffered, nor Chalons, with its great 
church of St. Loup and St. Jean, but the Cathedral and 
the town of Noyon have been leveled, and the gray walls 
of incomparable coucy-le-Chateau, " that greatest of the 
castles of the Middle Ages," whose lords arrogantly pro- 
claimed " Roi ne suys, ne prince, ne due, ne conte aussi; 
je suys le Sire de Coucy," have vanished forever from 
the heights under the wanton fire of the invaders' shells, 
and twenty thousand pounds of powder placed in the 
walls and exploded in revenge on the day of the retreat 
(April 1917). 

Amiens, for some reason, has been spared, but it too 
may yet receive its baptism of fire, even as Rheims. 
Amiens and Rheims ! Never were there such miracles of 
art as shown in these temples ! Rheims is now a ragged 
ruin of roofless leaning walls. So Amiens, miraculously 
preserved, is now the greatest existing example of Chris- 
tian architecture in the world. 

In the following chapters I have quoted extracts from 
accounts written by eyewitnesses of acts committed by 



FOREWORD 

the invader in the devastated towns of France. I am not 
responsible for these statements, now can I vouch abso- 
lutely for their truth, or correctness. I give them for 
what they are worth as part of the setting — the frame 
work of the pictures I have made of the noble, now 
vanished monuments which can never be replaced. . . . 
If I have betrayed bitter feeling it is because of their 
destruction by whomsoever accomplished. 

" Woe be unto him from whom offense cometh." 

The Author. 
Greenwich, Conn. 
May 1917. 



dontfitts 



PAGE 

Foreword 9 

Arras 17 

Lille 43 

Amiens • • 57 

Peronne 73 

Cambrai 79 

St. Quentin 97 

Valenciennes 113 

SoissoNs 131 

NOYON 143 

Meaux 177 

Senlis 193 

The Chateau of Gerbeviller 209 

A Heroine 223 

Laon ■ . . 231 

Rheims 247 

St. Mihiel 259 

Verdun 279 

DoMREMY and THE Maid 291 

Conclusion 317 



WsA of SnttsMoiui 



PAGB 



The old Street to the Cathedral : Rheims Frontispiece "^ 

Town Hall: Arras ......... ., . 18-^ 

Urselines Tower: Arras . ., . ., 22^ 

Saint- Jean Baptiste: Arras ..:.... 32 '^ 

Chateau d'Eau : Arras ., . 36 

Statue of Jeanne d' Arc : Rheims 48 " 

Hotel de Ville : Peronne . . . . . . . . 74 " ' 

Maison du Provost : Valenciennes 86 *^ 

Corner of Grand' Place: Valenciennes . . .116 

Cathedral: Soissons . . . .. . ., . . . 132^ 

Cathedral: Noyon . ., . . ., . .-. . 136^ 

Fifteenth Century House : Noyon . . . . .146 

L' Ancien Eveche : Noyon. . ,., ..... 152 '^ 

Retable in the Cathedral : Noyon . . . ... 156 '^ 

Hotel de Ville : Noyon . . . . . ... 162"^ 

Old Mills: Meaux 180 '^^ 

Cathedral: Meaux . . 184 

I/' 
Ancient Ramparts : Senlis ........ 194 

Cathedral: Senlis 198 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Chapel of the Chateau: Gerbeviller . . ., . 210'^ 

Chateau: Gerbeviller 214 '^ 

Church: Gerbeviller . 218 '^ 

Chateau: Coucy 238 '^ 

Place du Marche : Rheims 248 

North Door of Cathedral : Rheims 250 "^ 

Apse of Cathedral : Rheims 254 "^^ 

Chatel Gate : Verdun . 266 '^ 

Old Houses on the Meuse : Verdun 280 *^ 

Cathedral: Verdun 284*^ 

House of Jeanne d' Arc : Domremy 294 / 



%m% 




f' was half-past six o'clock on a summer's morning, 
and a deep-toned bell in the cathedral sounded 
over the quaint gables of this really Flemish city 
of Arras. Although we were in France, little difference 
either in the people, costumes or architecture could be 
noted, so mingled here were the characteristics of the 
French and the Belgians. The sun was well up and 
gleamed hotly upon the old roof tops of the town, old 
many of them in Shakespeare's day, and flooded with 
golden light the quaint market place, now filled with 
swarming peasants. There were great heaps of flowers 
here and there, among the booths containing varied 
merchandise, and some of the market people were taking 
their morning bowls of hot cafe au lait, made fresh in 

17 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

green and yellow earthenware " biggins," over small iron 
braziers containing burning charcoal. The odor was in- 
viting, and as the people are always kindly disposed to- 
wards the traveler who has savoir faire, one may enjoy a 
fragrant and nourishing bowl with them in profitable and 
friendly commune, for almost whatever he chooses to 
offer, and not rarely free of any fee whatever save a 
" thank you," which is always received with a gracious 
smile and a murmured " N'pas d'quoi, M'sieu," or an 
" Au plaisir." 

It was perchance a market morning in Arras, and the 
long open square lined on either hand with strangely 
gabled Flemish houses, and closed at the upper end by the 
admirable lofty towered Town Hall, was filling fast with 
arrivals from the country round about. 

Everything was fresh and clean from the late rains, and 
the air was laden with the mingled perfume of flowers; 
with butter and cheese. Country carts of extravagant 
design and painted green were unloading, and the farm- 
er's boys were fitting together the booths for the sale of 
their varied commodities. Here and there were active 
dark complexioned Hebraic looking men and women, 
hard faced and sinister, who presided over stalls for the 
sale of cloth, shoes and the trinkets of small value cal- 
culated to tempt the peasantry. A cinematograph booth, 
resplendent with gilding, mirrors, and red and white 

18 



ARRAS 

paint, towered over the canvas covered booths, and a 
" merry go round," somewhat shabby by contrast, stood 
near it, its motive power, a small fat horse, contentedly 
eating his breakfast out of a brass hooped pail. The 
shops were opening one by one, displaying agricultural 
tools, and useful articles desired by the peasants. One 
heard bargaining going on, sometimes in the Flemish 
tongue, proving how near we were to Flanders, and some- 
times in Walloon. Both tongues are used here, and the 
costumes partake of their characteristics, the women in 
neat if coarse stuffs, and the men in stiff blue blouses, 
usually in wooden shoes, too. This was remarkable, for 
the wooden shoe was fast vanishing from the towns. We 
noted too, that women were abandoning the snowy white 
lace trimmed caps once forming such a quaint feature 
of market day gatherings. Now various hideous forms 
of black and purple bonnets, decked out with beads and 
upstanding feathers disfigured them, but with what 
pride they were worn I 

This market place at Arras was a sight worth a long 
journey to witness, if but to see the display of animals, 
chickens, and flowers on a bright sunny morning in the 
square beneath the tower of the Town Hall. The fowls 
squawked and flapped their wings; dogs barked; horses 
neighed; and hoarse voiced vendors called out their bar- 
gains. Here and there the fowl were killed on the spot 

19 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

for the buyer, and carried oif by rosy cheeked unsenti- 
mental housewives, carried off, too, often hidden in 
bunches of bright flowers. 

Did I write unsentimental ? — An error. Nowhere were 
the common people more given to sentiment. Does not 
one remember the large room that la belle madame at the 
'Couronne d'or provided for the traveling painter, who 
occupied it for two weeks, and during the season too, and 
when he discovered on the morning of departure that it 
was not included in the bill, on pointing out the omission 
to madame, did she not, and with the most charming 
smile imaginable say, with a wave of her shapely brown 
hands — " One could not charge for a room used as 
M'sieur's studio. The honor is sufficient to the 'Cou- 
ronne d'or." And how to repay such kindness? 

In an hour the noise and chattering of a market morning 
was in full sway. And over all sounded the great bell of 
the Cathedral: other church bells joined in the clamor, 
and at once began an accompaniment of clattering 
wooden shoes over the rough cobbles towards the church 
doors. Following these people up the street, we entered 
the dim pillared nave of the old church. On Sundays 
and market days the interior formed a picture not to be 
forgotten, and one especially full of human interest. 
The nave was freer of modern "improvements" than most 
of the churches, and there was much quiet dignity in the 

20 



ARRAS 

service. A large number of confessional cabinets, some 
of very quaint and others of most exquisitely carved de- 
tails, were set against the walls. Some of these had 
heavy green baize curtains to screen them instead of doors, 
and some of the cabinets were in use, for the skirt of a 
dress was visible below one of the curtains. The women 
before the altar knelt on the rush seats of small chairs, 
resting their clasped hands, holding rosaries, on the back, 
furnished with a narrow shelf between the uprights. 
They wore dark blue or brown stuff dresses, and small 
plaid shawls. We noted that not one of these wore 
wooden shoes or sabots. Ail on the contrary wore neat 
leather shoes. 

The women, especially the older ones, all turned their 
heads and curiously examined us as we tip-toed about, 
without, however, interrupting their incessant prayers for 
an instant. And they did not seem to resent our presence 
in the church, or regard it as an intrusion. 

In the subdued colored light from the painted windows, 
with the clouds of incense rising, the proportions of the 
columns and the lancet arches and windows were most 
impressive, and together with the kneeling peasants made 
a very fine effect. 

While there was little to be found in Arras that was 
really remarkable, for the town was given over to the 
traffic in grain and the townspeople were all very com- 

21 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

mercial, there were bits of the town corners and side 
streets worthy of recording. Near the dominating Town 
Hall were many types of ancient Flemish gabled houses, 
of which we shall not find better examples even in Flan- 
ders itself. Arras was as noisy as any Belgian market 
town where soldiers are stationed. There was the pass- 
ing of heavy military carts through the ill-paved streets ; 
the clatter of feet; the sounds of bugle and rolling of 
drum at sundown. The closing of the cafes at midnight 
ended the day, while at dawn in the morning the din of 
arriving and passing market wagons commenced again, 
followed by the workmen and women going to their daily 
tasks at the factories. 

"Do these people never rest?" asked Lady Anne, 
whose morning nap was thus rudely interrupted. Ma- 
dame's answer came : 

" Ah, indeed, yes. But not in the summer. Mark you, 
in the dark short days of winter, there is little going on in 
Arras. Then we are very quiet." 

The old town was old, very old. There were of course 
some modern looking white houses of stucco in which we 
were told some rich people live, and there were large 
blank walled factories with tall chimneys, from which 
heavy black smoke poured the livelong day. There were 
plate glass windows here and there, too, in some of the 
shops, with articles de Paris exposed for sale, and there 

22 



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ARRAS 

were occasionally smooth pavements to be found, but 
mainly there were quaint old corners, high old yellow 
fronted, narrow windowed houses, and old, old men and 
older women passing to and fro in the narrow by streets. 

In one corner of the market place sat an ancient dame 
in a wonderful lace cap, who presided over a huge pile 
of pale green earthenware pots of various sizes and fine 
shapes, who all unconsciously made for me a picture in 
sunlight and shadow; brown wrinkled hands busy with 
knitting; brown wrinkled face and bright shrewd greeny 
blue eyes, twinkling below the flaps of her lace cap; all 
against a worn, old, rusty-hinged green door ! I could not 
resist the opportunity. So in a convenient doorway I 
paused to make a note of it without attracting much at- 
tention from the passers-by. 

Entering the wide " place " (there were two of these) 
one was confronted by an astonishing vista of quaintly 
gabled Flemish houses on either hand, all built mainly 
after one model but presenting some variations of minor 
detail. These led to the Hotel de Ville. The houses 
were furnished with arcades below supported by mono- 
lithic sandstone columns. The Hotel de Ville, built in 
the sixteenth century (not a vestige of which remains at 
this writing, April, 1917), was one of the most ornate in 
France. Its fine Gothic facade rose upon seven quaintly 
different arcades, in the elaborate Renaissance style, 

23 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

pierced by ornate windows with Gothic tracery in the 
best of taste and workmanship. Overhead rose the grace- 
ful Belfry, terminating in a gilded ducal crown at the 
height of some two hundred and fifty feet. The weekly 
market fair was in full progress, and the old Grand' Place 
was swarming with carts, animals, booths, and chattering 
peasants. Before the Revolution, the Chapelle des Ar- 
dents and the spire of La Sainte-Chapelle on the Petit' 
Place commemorated the deliverance of Arras in the 
twelfth century from the plague called the " mal des 
ardents" when the Virgin is believed to have given a 
candle to two fiddlers, declaring that " water into which 
a drop of its holy wax had fallen would save all who 
drank it."' 

Behind the dominating tower of the Hotel de Ville was 
the modern Cathedral, formerly the abbey church of St. 
Vaast, with an unfinished tower of 1735. 

We found in the Chapel of the Virgin the tomb of 
Cardinal de la Tour d' Auvergne-Lauraguais, and the 
twelfth century tombs of an abbot, of Philippe de Torcy, 
a governor of Arras, and his wife. The treasury is said 
to have contained the blood-stained " rochet " worn by 
Thomas a Becket when he was murdered, but the sacristan 
refused to show it unless he was first paid a fee of two 
francs, which we thought exorbitant. 

^ Hare's " Northeastern France." 

24 



ARRAS 

Arras was the capital of the Gallic tribe " Atrebates," 
and even in the dim fourth century was famous for the 
manufacture of woolen cloth, dyed with the madder which 
grows luxuriously in the neighborhood. The wearing of 
tapestry hangings gave Arras a high reputation, and ex- 
amples are preserved in the museums of France and Eng- 
land, where the name of the town is used to identify them. 
The art has long since ceased to exist, needless to say. 

Briefly, the town followed the fortunes of the Pays d' 
Artois, of which it was the capital, passing by marriage 
from the house of France to Burgundy, Flanders, Bur- 
gundy again, Germany and Spain. After the battle of 
Agincourt, the English and French signed the treaty 
of peace at Arras. The town was finally incorporated 
with France in 1640. 

According to legend one of the ancient gates, of which 
no trace now remains, bore the proud distich 

" Quand les souris prendront les chats, 
Le roi sera seigneur d' Arras." 

which is said to have so enraged Louis of France that he 
expelled the whole population, abolishing even the name 
of Arras, which he changed to that of Franchise. 

Here was born the great Robespierre, but we were un- 
able to find the house, or even the street in which it was 
situated, nor could any of the ecclesiastics to whom we 

25 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

applied for information enlighten us in regard to the mat- 
ter. 

The Cathedral, a romanesque structure, at an angle of 
the abbey buildings, and approached by high stone steps 
broken by a platform, was built in 1755. Perhaps if we 
had not seen it after having feasted our eyes upon the 
exquisite details of the Hotel de Ville, it might have 
seemed more impressive and interesting. It contained 
some good pictures, including a " Descent from the 
Cross," and " The Entombment," attributed to Rubens 
and Van Dyck respectively. 

The high altar enshrined a notable bas-relief in gilt 
bronze. The Abbatial buildings were occupied by the 
'Eveche, Seminary, Library, and the Musee, the latter 
containing a lot of modern paintings, badly hung, and 
seemingly indifferent in quality. 

In the cloisters, however, were rooms containing an 
archaeological collection of sculptures and architectural 
fragments, and a small collection of Flemish pictures by 
" Velvet " Breughel, Heemskerk, N. Maes and others, 
and upstairs, a fine model of an antique ship, " offered " 
by the States of Artois to the American Colonies in the 
War of Independence. One wonders why it was never 
sent. 

At the end of a quiet street which crossed the busy and 
crowded Rue St. Aubert, we came upon the remains of a 

26 



ARRAS 

remarkable old town gate, and the remains, too, of the 
ancient fortified walls, and farther on, the dismantled cit- 
adel constructed by the great Vauban in 1670, and called 
" La Belle Inutile." Here in this region, called the 
" cockpit of Europe," for ages incessant wars have been 
waged, covering the land with such a network of evi- 
dences of bitterly fought rivalries as no other portion 
of the earth can show, and when no foreign foe had to be 
baffled or beaten oif, then the internecine wars of clan 
against clan have flooded the fair land with gore and 
ruin. 

But all was peaceful here about this old town this bright 
morning in July, 1910. There was no evidence of the 
red waves of the wars which had rolled over and eddied 
about this very spot, save the old dismantled Vauban 
tower and the remains of the ancient wall, in which we 
were only mildly interested. It was the present day's 
wanderings which interested us more; the lives of the 
peasants, their customs and their daily occupations. 
Time seemed to stand still here without any conscious- 
ness of backwardness. Nothing hurried at Arras, and 
change for the sake of change had no attraction for it. 
The ways of the fathers were good enough for the 
children. 

There was a newspaper here, of course, but yet the town 
crier held his own, — a strange looking old man in a long 

27 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

crinkly blue blouse, balloon like trousers of velveteen 
corduroy, wooden shoes and a broad brimmed felt hat. A 
drum hung suspended from his shoulder by a leather 
strap. He was followed by a small procession of boys 
and girls. He stopped and beat a vigorous tattoo on the 
drum; windows above and doors below were filled with 
heads as if by magic. He produced a folded paper from 
his pocket, glanced about him proudly conscious of the 
importance of the occasion, and read in a loud voice some 
local news of interest, and then announced the loss of 
something or other, with notice to hand whatever it was 
to the commissaire de Police, and then marched off down 
the street to repeat the performance at the next corner. 
The heads vanished from the windows like the cuckoos 
of German clocks, and the street was quiet again. Who 
could have believed that such a custom could have sur- 
vived in the days of telegraph and telephone, and in a 
city of, say, thirty thousand inhabitants ? 

The old streets and highways about the town were in- 
describably attractive, and beyond in the country, the 
shaded ways beneath large trees offered charming vistas, 
and shelter from the sun. The people seemed to have 
an intuitive feeling for harmony, and little or nothing in 
or about the cottages, save an occasional odoriferous pig 
sty, offended one. 

Colors melted into half tones in the most seductive f ash- 
28 



ARRAS 

ion, and there was, too, an insistent harmony in the cos- 
tumes of the peasants, the stain of time on the buildings 
or the grayish greens of the landscape. 

But of all this the peasant was most certainly uncon- 
scious. The glories of nature and her marvelous har- 
monies were no more to him than to the beast of the field. 
He was hard of heart, brutal of tongue and mean of 
habit. Balzac has well described him in his " Sons of the 
Soil." Money was his god, and greed his pursuit. Yet 
all about him nature bloomed and fructified, while he 
toiled and schemed, his eyes ever bent earthwards. The 
peasant had no sentiment. It was best therefore to view 
him superficially, and as part of the picturesqueness of 
the country, like the roofs and gables of the old town, 
say, without seeking out secrets of the " menage " behind 
the walls. 

We were interested in the various occupations of these 
semi-Flemish peasants, and the cries of the vendors in the 
streets in the early morning. Most of these cries were 
unintelligible to us because of the mixed patois, but it 
amused us to identify the cry of the vendor of eels, which 
was most lugubrious — a veritable wail of distress, seem- 
ingly. And when we saw her in the street below our win- 
dows, laden with two heavy baskets containing her com- 
modity, her fat rosy face lifted to the sky, her appearance 
so belied the agonizing wail that we laughed aloud — and 

29 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

then — she heard us I What vituperation did she not ad- 
dress to us ? Such a vocabulary, too ! although we did not 
understand more than a few words she made it very plain 
that she regarded us as most contemptible beings. 

" Miserable espece de Mathieux " she called up to us 
again and again. Whatever that meant, whatever depths 
of infamy it denoted, we did not know, nor did we ever 
find out. We were much more careful thereafter, and 
kept away from the window, for setting down her bas- 
kets she planted herself on the curb opposite and there 
presiding over the curious group of market people whom 
she had collected about her, she raged and stormed with 
uplifted fat red arms gesticulating at our windows, until 
the crowd, wearying of her eloquence, gradually melted 
away. We never saw her again. 

There was also the seller of snails, whose cry was a series 
of ludicrous barks and cackles. I don't know how else 
to describe the extraordinary sounds he made. They quite 
fascinated us, for he varied them from time to time, tak- 
ing seemingly much enjoyment in the ingenuity of his per- 
formance. His baskets, which hung by brass chains from 
a green painted yoke on his shoulders, contained a collec- 
tion of very large snails, all, as he said, freshly boiled, and 
each shell being closed by a seal of fresh yellow butter, 
sprinkled, I think, with parsley (I never tasted them), 
and prettily reposing upon a bed of crisp pale green let- 

30 



ARRAS 

tuce leaves. These seem to be highly esteemed by the 
people. 

Our chief search in Arras, after valuing the ancient halls 
and the limited treasures of the museum, was for some ex- 
amples of the wonderful tapestries known far and near 
by the name of " Arras." In vain we sought a specimen; 
there was none in the museum, nor in the town hall either. 
Those whom we thought might be able to assist us in our 
search professed ignorance of any such article, and the 
priest whom we met in the cathedral, directed us to the 
local furniture shop for what he called " belle tapis.'' So 
we gave it up, most reluctantly, however. 

It is strange that not one example could be found in the 
town of this most renowned tapestry, for this ancient town 
enjoyed a reputation second to none in the low coun- 
tries for art work of the loom. Cloth and all manner 
of woolen stuffs were the principal articles of Flemish 
production, but it was chiefly from England that Flan- 
ders drew her supply of wool, the raw material of her in- 
dustry, and England was her great market as early as the 
middle of the twelfth century. There was a great guild 
established in London called the Flemish " Hanse," to 
which the merchants sent their manufacture. It was gov- 
erned by a burgher of Bruges who was styled " Count of 
the Hanse." " The merchants of Arras became so pros- 
perous and powerful, that (says a chronicler), Mar- 

31 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

guerite II, called The Black, countess of Flanders and 
Hainault, 1244 to 1280, was extremely rich, not only in 
lands but furniture, jewels, and money; and, as is not 
customary with women, she was right liberal and right 
sumptuous, not alone in her largesses, but in her enter- 
tainments and whole manner of living; insomuch that 
she kept up the state of a queen rather than a countess." 
(Kervyn de Lettenhove, Histoire d' Flandre, t, ii. p. 
300.) 

To Arras, in common with the neighboring towns, came 
for exchange the produce of the North and the South, 
the riches collected in the pilgrimages to Novogorod, and 
those brought over by caravans from Samarcand and Bag- 
dad, — the pitch of Norway and oils of Andalusia, the 
furs of Russia and dates from the Atlas, the metals from 
Hungary and Bohemia, the figs of Granada, the honey 
of Portugal, the wax of Morocco and the spices from 
Egypt: "Whereby" says the ancient manuscript, "no 
land is to be compared in merchandise to this land." 

And so, even if the guide books do dismiss Arras at the 
end of a few curt details with the words " The Town is 
now given over to various manufactures, and its few 
attractions may be exhausted between trains," Arras cer- 
tainly did offer to the curious tourist many quaint vistas, 
a Town Hall of great architectural individuality, and in 
her two picturesque squares, the " Grand' Place " and 

32 







l^%% 







ARRAS 

the " Petit' Place," a picture of antiquity not surpassed 
by any other town in Northern France. 

Quoting that eminent architect, Mr. Ralph Adams 
Cram, " We may pause in spirit in Arras (it would not 
be well to be there now in body, unless one were a soldier 
in the army of the Allies, when it would be perilous, but 
touched with glory) , for sight of an old, old city that gave 
a vision, better than almost any other in France, of what 
cities were in this region at the high-tide of the Renais- 
sance. It is gone now, utterly, irremediably, and the ill 
work begun in the revolution and continued under the em- 
pire, when the great and Splendid Gothic Cathedral was 
sold and destroyed, has been finished by Prussian shells. 

" Capital of Artois, it had a vivid and eventful history, 
continuing under Baldwin of the Iron Arm, who became 
the first Count of Arras; then being halved between the 
Count of Flanders and the King of France ; given by St. 
Louis to his brother Robert, passing to the Counts of Bur- 
gundy, reverting to Louis de Male, of Flemish fame, 
abandoned to the Emperor, won back by France; . . . 
coming now to its end at the hands of the German hosts. 

" What Arras must have been before the Revolution 
we can only guess, but its glorious Cathedral, Its Chap- 
pelle des Ardents, and its ' Pyramid of the Holy Candle ' 
added to its surviving Town Hall, with its fantastically 
beautiful spire, and its miraculously preserved streets and 

33 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

squares lined with fancifully gabled and arcaded houses, 
it must have been a sanctuary of old delights. The Ca- 
thedral was of all styles from the twelfth to the sixteenth 
century, while the Chapel and the Pyramid were models 
of medieval art in its richest state. Both were destroyed 
by one Lebon, a human demon and an apostate priest, 
who organised a ' terror ' of his own in his city, and has 
gone down to infamy for his pestilential crime. Both 
the destroyed monuments were votive offerings in grati- 
tude to Our Lady for her miraculous intervention in the 
case of the fearful plague in the twelfth century, the 
instrument of preservation being a certain holy candle, 
the melted wax from which was effective in preserving the 
life of all it touched. The Pyramid was a slender Gothic 
tabernacle and spire, ninety feet high, standing in the 
' Petit' Place,' a masterpiece of carved and gilded sculp- 
ture, unique of its kind. Every vestige has vanished, 
— Berlin has just announced that it has been completely 
and intentionally destroyed by gun-fire. 

" The fine vigor of the Renaissance and its life were 
gone with the color and gold of the carved and painted 
shrines and houses, the fanciful costumes, the alert civic 
life. — Wantonly destroyed I " 

Madeline Wartelle, a voluntary nurse, who was in 
Arras during the great bombardment in July, 1915, wrote 
in the volume " Les Cites Meurtries " the following ac- 

34 



ARRAS 

count of her experiences during the destruction of the 
Cathedral and the other noble buildings. 

" On July 2d, about six o'clock in the evening sev- 
eral shells fell upon the Cathedral. Then followed a 
calm for two hours. At half past eight, a bomb dropped 
from above, set fire to the house of M. Daquin in the rue 
de' I'Arsenal, and in a few moments the flames were 
mounting to a great height. When the firemen {pom- 
piers) arrived, the fire had already spread to the house of 
Mme. Cornnan, and could not be confined even to the 
neighboring ones. During and following this catastro- 
phe, at one o'clock in the morning, an avalanche of great 
bombs, those called ' Marmites,' fell all over this quar- 
ter of the town. This time, alas, we had no trouble in 
getting all the details of the happening, for our house 
collapsed, being struck by the second bomb dropped by 
the ' Taube,' which went through the roof to the cellar. 
Luckily, we had gone to R — s when the fire broke out, and 
thus we all escaped. 

" Forced to leave (Arras) we did not see the demolish- 
ment of the Cathedral and the Palace of St. Vaast on Mon- 
day, July 5th, but I set down here what I have learned from 
the lips of a witness of the deplorable ' aneantisment.' 

" From six o'clock on that date, the gun-fire of the 
' Huns ' was especially directed at the Cathedral, and the 
fire which ensued spread to the end of the Palace of St. 

35 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Vaast, which contained the archives of the town, and 
which was entirely consumed, and spreading further like- 
wise destroyed the Library and the Museum of the Sem- 
inary. The fire department did what it could to save the 
books and sacred objects, but their efforts were in vain, 
such was the rain of projectiles from the ' Taubes ' 
above, and the shells from the great guns miles away. 
So the order to evacuate was given by the authorities. 

" At one o'clock the following morning the smoulder- 
ing fire in the Cathedral was fanned by a high wind which 
sprang up, and soon enveloped the whole interior; the 
two great organs, the large pulpit, and the Bishop's stalls 
were entirely consumed. The fire in the Cathedral 
burned two whole days, watched by a mourning throng 
of the townspeople, who thus braved death by the fall- 
ing bombs. All was consumed but the great door on the 
rue des Charriottes, which did not fall until the week 
following. On the twelfth day, at five in the morning, 
the fire demolished the Bishopric, and the Chapel of the 
great Seminary. Nothing is now left but a heap of 
smoking cinders and ashes, from which some charred 
beams protrude. The treasured Chateau d'Eau is gone I 

" Happily, the ' Descent from the Cross ' by Rubens, 
which decorated the Cathedral was removed from its place 
some hours before the fire, when the first of the great 
shells fell upon the town, and secreted by the priests. 

36 








-I w^ 



M ^ mm 



j.yjui.& 






ARRAS 

Also two ' triptychs ' by Jean Bellegambe were saved 
by M. Levoy, who buried them in the cellar of the Cha- 
teau of the Counte de Hauteclocque. Curiously enough, 
some little time after they were thus secreted, a shell pen- 
etrated this cellar, but it is said that the damage to the 
pictures is small and may easily be repaired. 

" The Abbe Miseron, Vicar of the Cathedral, himself, at 
the peril of his life saved some of the most precious ob- 
jects in the Treasury. He says (happily) that the great 
tombs of the Bishops, though buried beneath the ashes of 
the Cathedral, have suffered small damage. 

" Of the four colossal statues of the Evangelists, not a 
trace remains; they are entirely pulverized by the great 
shells exploding before them. 

" Of the Library, too, not a trace remains I Some of 
the archives have, I hear, been saved, together with a 
number of paintings, and M. Dalimeir, under secretary of 
Beaux Arts has decided to send them to Paris. All the 
rest has vanished. A fragment of the plan in relief of 
the old town of Arras, formerly in the Invalides was 
saved, but nothing remains of the Roman antiquities 
which were discovered in the caves beneath the town, nor 
of the old tapestries, nor the faience, nor of the objects 
which filled the galleries of Natural History in the mu- 
seum. — All is gone I 

" In eleven months since the bombardment began, one 
37 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

hundred and seventy-five of our citizens have been killed 
in the streets and in their houses, and the number of 
wounded is more than double that number. After the de- 
molition of our charming home, we found shelter for 
three nights in the cellar of a kind neighbor, but on the 
fifth of July, in the early morning, we had to take in our 
turn ' le chemin d' 'Exil.' For nine months now we 
have had to retreat from place to place, each filled with 
possible dangers, and certain discomfort, but with hearts 
filled too with profound emotion, and the hope that we 
may soon return to our beloved town and to our charm- 
ing old home, our house so beloved — so peaceful once 
in those happy days, when the pigeons cooed on the eaves 
in the warm sunlight, the swallows darting to their nests 
on the chimney — all the cherished souvenirs of those 
past days — my tears — 

". . . Our poor town — {ville Meurtrie) . 

" Around about Arras, the villages, once so smiling and 
prosperous, are now all in ruins. — Later on when glori- 
ous peace breaks upon the land of France, each hamlet 
shall be starred upon the pages of the golden book of his- 
tory. And this black page of war once closed, that Arras- 
la-Morte shall rise from her ruins and ashes, more beau- 
tiful than ever, is my prayer." 

(Signed) Madeline Wartelle. 
July, 1915. 
38 



ARRAS 

In the Journal Officiel, of Paris, is the following : 
Ministere de la Guerre. 
Citation a 1' ordre de 1' Armee. 

Wartelle (Madeleine), Infirmiere volontaire a 1' am- 
bulance i/io du Saint Sacrement: N'a cesse de prodiguer 
des Soins aux blesses et de fournir aux medicins la plus 
precieuse collaboration; a contribue par une action per- 
sonnelle, lors du bombardment du 25 Juin, a sauver les 
blesses en les mettant hors d' atteinte des projectiles en- 
nemis (27 Septembre 1915). 

Ministere de 1' Interieur. 

Le Gouvernement porte la connaissance du pays la 
belle conduite de Mile. Wartelle (Madeleine) : a fait 
preuve, dans des circonstances tragiques, du plus grand 
courage. 

Alors que I'ambulance du Saint-Sacrement a Arras, ou 
elle etait infirmiere voluntaire, venait d' etre violem- 
ment bombardee, que des soldats et des religieuses etaient 
tues, elle est denreuree resolument a son poste, ardent a 
descendre a la cave les blesses, prodignant a tons ses soins 
empresses. (28Novembre 1915,) 



39 



%Mt 



» 




UR fruitless search in Arras for some examples 
of the ancient tapestries somewhat dampened the 
ardor of our tour at the very beginning. But in 
the train on our way to Lille we had a charming view of 
suburban Arras lying basking in the sun, all girt by its 
verdant belt of dense dark green trees. From the win- 
dow of the railway carriage we saw the horizon expand, 
and hill after hill unroll, covered with waving corn, and 
realized that France's great northern granary lay spread 
before our eyes, the fields like cabochon emeralds set 
royally in virgin gold. 

Approaching Lille one got the impression of a region 
in which the commonweal formed the keynote, so to 
speak, and after the beauties surrounding quaint Arras, 
it seemed somewhat sordid. The embossed fair green 
hills were replaced by level plains ; the smiling cornfields 
vanished before barren brown moors. The wealth of the 
earth here lay far below the plains, and man was busied 
in bringing it to the surface. Ceres gave way to Vulcan : 
Prosperous picturesque farmsteads were displaced by high 

43 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

black and ugly furnaces from which tremendous volumes 
of pitch black smoke issued the live-long day, and maybe 
the night as well. The stacks of grimy chimneys were 
seemingly as high as the spires of churches, and ashes and 
dust covered all. Lille is in the coal region. Somehow 
as we approached it we thought of our own Pittsburgh. 
The latter is no whit dirtier, but it is not so picturesque 
as was Lille. Roubaix, on the horizon, is even dirtier, so 
a traveling companion informed us, and gave us other 
information which kept us away from that Flemish town. 
Lille was said to be the administrative factor of northern 
France, in point of industry. The town had upwards 
of one hundred and thirty thousand inhabitants, among 
whom there were some possessed of great fortunes. 
These built for themselves houses of magnificent pro- 
portions on both sides of boulevards leading nowhere. 
In this region we found a cafe restaurant of princely 
aspect " as good as any in Paris," the townspeople 
proudly said, with a huge mansard roof, and a tower 
which did not fit it. On the river bank, lined with 
barges, were two fine promenades, brand new, and at the 
end of one was an artificial waterfall with plenty of 
water falling over artificial rocks in doubtful taste, of 
which the Lilleois were so pathetically proud that we 
could only smilingly agree to their extravagant joy in it 
as a work of art. Here we found American made tram 

44 



LILLE 

cars running through the rather commonplace streets, 
which however were teeming with life and " business." 

In response to a question, a " cabby " urged as the 
greatest attraction a ride out to the hydraulic works 
situated on a plain, where a great engine pumped drink- 
ing water from a deep well inclosed in brick work. The 
whole atmosphere of the place was like unto that of one 
of our own Yankee towns. But there were, of course, 
some notable and picturesque buildings in Lille. There 
was the Exchange, the chief architectural ornament of 
the city, and really it was impossible to see it without 
pausing in admiration of its characteristics. Occupying, 
as it did, the great Market Place, I know of no other 
building like it save perhaps the Exchange in Antwerp, 
that lovely semi-Moorish hall with its shield-emblazoned 
frieze, and its lofty glass ceiling. This one at Lille was, 
of course, smaller, but it had the great advantage of being 
free from encroaching buildings, and standing quite 
alone, being visible from all four sides. 

Then, too, it was a genuine example of its order of 
architecture, a beautifully preserved specimen of the 
ancient Spanish style, with an added touch here and there 
of Italian Renaissance which blended charmingly. The 
walls were of Flemish red brick, while the Atrium, open 
to the sky, and serving as an inner court, was pure Italian. 
Here was a fine bronze statue of Napoleon I, all clad in 

45 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

imperial robes, about which the busy, bustling merchants 
of Lille transacted some of their business in the after- 
noons. In the mornings we found most delightful soli- 
tude here in this court, which then by contrast seemed 
liker unto the cloisters of some abbey than the busy com- 
mercial center it was later in the day. Emblazoned here 
upon marble slabs one could read of the records of famous 
citizens of the town whose deeds were esteemed as 
precious and noteworthy. It is said that it was at either 
Lille or Tournai that Napoleon found the golden bees 
which he adopted for the Imperial insignia, these being 
taken from the tomb of a Frankish king. 

We were further reminded of the Palais Royal in Paris, 
in the small shops, most brilliantly lighted at night, 
which formed the outer ring of the building. Here were 
displayed bijoux-or-et-argent, and also more or less ex- 
quisitely made robes for Madame de Lille. 

The upper part of the building, which was two-storied, 
had dormer windows, and a quadrant of beautifully de- 
signed and executed interlaced stonework with a pro- 
fusion of caryatides, pilasters, and bands of carved stone 
fruit and garlands of flowers, all of the greatest richness, 
within an astonishingly small space. Nowhere could we 
find the name of the architect, but it is said that the 
foundation was laid in 1652 by the Spanish. Workmen 
were busy cleaning a small turret of most graceful design 

46 



LILLE 

which rose from above the walls of this quaint old His- 
pano-Flemish monument, and I noted the care with which 
the work was being done, a pleasing testimonial to the 
love of the people of Lille for their ancient work of art. 
The Rihour Palace was far greater in size than the Ex- 
change, but it did not match it in importance. The 
greater part of it was modern, for it was almost destroyed . 
in the eighteenth century. Used as a town hall in the 
time of Louis Philippe, it became a sort of academy of 
art, wherein was displayed, and very well, too, a princely 
collection of paintings of Flemish and Dutch schools, and 
also the great collection of drawings known as the 
"Wicar Legacy," representing the Italian school, and 
containing a piece of sculpture of which all the museums 
of Europe envied that of Lille. 

This in the catalogue was described as, " A waxen head 
of Raphael's time, titled thus by the hand of Wicar him- 
self when in 1834 he drew up in Rome the inventory of 
the old Italian art collection." ' Huet regards this as a 
marvel that one should not miss seeing. He says, " In 
truth, one fancies himself to be looking at the transparent, 
softly tinted face of one of Raphael's Madonnas. In- 
nocence and gentleness dispute each other the palm in 
the expression of the features, they have settled on the 
pure brow, they play tranquilly and somewhat sadly 

^ " The Land of Rubens." C. B. Huet. 

47 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

around the mouth, they are crowned by the plaits of the 
fair tresses." We admired the head and treasured 
Wicar's description of it. 

Enumeration of the treasures contained in the Palais 
des Beaux Arts would take a volume in itself. Suffice 
it to say here that the collection contained in this edifice 
was among the most important in all France. 

Rumors have appeared in print during the last two 
years, that this whole collection has been carefully packed 
and sent to Berlin. At this date of writing (May, 1917) 
Lille has not yet been evacuated by the Germans, and 
we are told that none of the buildings has been destroyed 
save some unimportant ones near the railway station. 
Just what will be the fate of the town may be conjectured 
when one reflects upon what happened to Noyon, to 
Rheims, to Soissons, and to St. Quentin, when the in- 
vaders were no longer able to hold them. 

Let us pray that the Musee Wicar may be spared, by 
some happy chance. Wicar was an artist who died in 
1834, who made a great deal of money by his work, and 
whose real hobby was the collection of the drawings by 
great masters, including nearly two hundred and fifty 
drawings by Michelangelo, sixty-eight by Raphael, and 
a large number by Francia, Titian and others, besides 
endless examples of the Renaissance. 

Wandering about in Lille one came upon some hand- 
48 






-'?■'» *^«Sf^ 



, ITa+o. J, , 



Cf 









:^ 







,?f^l^^ 



LILLE 

some buildings behind the Hotel de Ville in the Rue du 
Palais, which proved to be those of the Military Hospital, 
formerly a Jewish college. Here was an ancient chapel 
of the seventeenth century, containing a remarkable 
altar, and some huge dark paintings which may have been 
good, but the light was so dim, and they were hung so 
high that it was impossible to examine them. Continu- 
ing the wandering one reached the fine old town gate, 
the ancient Porte de la Barre, in a good state of preser- 
vation. There were a number of these gates. The old 
Porte de Paris was part of the fortifications, and built 
in the form of a sort of triumphal arch to the honor of 
Louis XVL Some quaint streets as yet untouched by the 
march of commercialism, led from here into busy thor- 
oughfares teeming with life and activity. One, running 
eastwards from the Porte de Paris, passed between a 
square and the old Hotel du Genie, and this led one to 
the Gothic church of St. Sauveur, noteworthy for its 
double aisles, and most elaborate white marble high altar, 
carved in the Gothic style and with a bewildering detail 
and accompaniment of statues and alto-reliefs. There 
was also the great church of St. Maurice in the Flam- 
boyant style, with a most notable west portal, most care- 
fully restored in very good taste. An open-work spire 
of stone rose above it, all of admirable character. The 
interior proved to be distinguished by the width of the 

49 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

nave and the double aisles all of the same height, and by 
the richness of the effect lent by the remarkable lightness 
of the columns. 

The handsomest streets of the old town were the Rue 
Esquermoise and the Rue Royale. Near the entrance to 
the latter was the ancient church of St. Catherine, 
founded in the twelfth century, and rebuilt in its present 
style in the sixteenth, and restored again in the eighteenth 
century. Here above the altar was a fine " Martyrdom 
of St. Catherine," by Rubens. 

In common with the other Flemish cities of Douai, 
Cambrai, and Valenciennes, Lille suffered regularly from 
sieges and sackings, invasions and conquests from its 
very beginnings. "In June, 1297, Philip the Hand- 
some, in person, laid siege to Lille, and on the 13th of 
August, Robert, Count of Artois, at the head of the 
French chivalry, gained at Furnes, over the Flemish 
army a victory which decided the campaign. Lille capit- 
ulated." 

" The English reinforcements arrived too late and 
served no other purpose but that of inducing Philip to 
grant the Flemings a truce for two years. A fruitless 
attempt was made with the help of Pope Boniface VIII, 
to change the truce into a lasting peace. The very day 
on which it expired, Charles, Count of Valois, and 
brother of Philip the Handsome, entered Flanders with 

50 



LILLE 

a powerful army, surprised Douai, . . . gave a recep- 
tion to its magistrates who came and offered him the keys. 
' The burghers of the towns of Flanders,' says a chronicler 
of the age, ' were all bribed by gifts or promises from the 
King of France, who would never have dared to invade 
their frontier had they been faithful to their Count.' 
The Flemish communes desired the peace necessary for 
the prosperity of their commerce; but patriotic anxieties 
wrested with material interests. . . . 

" In the spring of 1304 the cry of war resounded every- 
where. Philip had laid an import extraordinary upon 
all real property in his kingdom; regulars and reserves 
had been summoned to Arras to attack the Flemings by 
land and sea. He had taken into his pay a Genoese fleet 
commanded by Regnier de Grimaldi, a celebrated Italian 
admiral; and it arrived in the North Sea, blockaded 
Zierickzee, a maritime town of Zealand. . . . The 
Flemish fleet was beaten. A great battle took place on 
the 17th of August between the two great land armies at 
Mons-en-Fuelle, or Mont-en-Pevele, according to the true 
local spelling, near Lille. The action was for some time 
indecisive, and even after it was over both sides hesi- 
tated about claiming a victory; but when the Flemings 
saw their camp swept off and rifled, and when they no 
longer found in it ' their fine stuffs of Bruges and Ypres, 
their wines of Rochelle, their beers of Cambrai, and their 

51 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

cheeses of Bethune,' they declared that they would return 
to their hearths; and their leaders, unable to restrain 
them, were obliged to shut themselves up in Lille, 
whither Philip, who had himself retired to Arras, came to 
besiege them. 

When the first days of downheartedness were over, and 
the danger which threatened Lille, and the remains of 
the Flemish army became evident, all Flanders rushed 
to arms. " The labors of the workshop and the field were 
everywhere suspended; the women kept guard in the 
towns; you might traverse the country without meeting 
a single man, for they were all in the camp at Courtrai, 
to the number of twelve hundred thousand ( I ) accord- 
ing to popular exaggeration, swearing to one another 
that they would rather die fighting than live in slavery. 
Philip was astounded. 

" ' I thought the Flemings were destroyed,' said he, 
' but they seem to rain from heaven.' 

" The burghers of Bruges had made themselves a new 
seal whereon the old symbol of the bridge of their city 
on the river Reye was replaced by the Lion of Flanders, 
wearing the crown and armed with the cross, with this 
inscription : ' The Lion hath roared and burst his fetters ' 
(Rugiit leo, Vincula f regit) . 

" During ten years, from 1305 to 1314, there was be- 
tween France and Flanders a continual alternation of 

52 



LILLE 

reciprocal concessions and retractions, of treaties con- 
cluded and of renewed insurrections without decisive 
and ascertained results. It was neither peace nor war; 
and after the death of Philip the Handsome, his succes- 
sors were destined for a long time to come to find again 
and again amongst the Flemish communes deadly enmi- 
ties and grievous perils." ^ 

What wonder then that Lille retains so few remarkable 
public monuments. Perhaps of all the Flemish towns 
she suffered most from pillage and fire. Farther on in 
the Rue Royale, beyond the statue of General Negrier, 
was the eighteenth century church of St. Andre, once 
belonging to the " Carmes dechausses," where there were 
some good paintings by a native artist, Arnould de Vuez, 
who enjoyed considerable celebrity. Following the at- 
tractive quays along the river front, which was teeming 
with life and movement, one reached the small square 
of St. Martin, where was the church of " Notre Dame de 
la Trielle," which is said to have occupied the site of the 
ancient moated Chateau du Buc, which formed the origin 
of the city of Lille, and which the Flemish to this day 
call Ryssel. A fortress of the first class, Lille's citadel 
is said to have been Vauban's masterpiece, and perhaps 
this is one of the reasons why the invaders of 1914 sur- 
rounded it with the network of concrete trenches and 

* Guizot's " History of France." 

53 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

galleries which formed the angle of the famous Hinden- 
burg line after the disastrous retreat from Arras in April, 
1917. So far Lille has not suffered very much from 
the bombardment of this present year, but it is safe to 
say now that the invader will not spare it in retreat. 



54 



Smirns 



%mm 



^fc^HERE was no better way of realizing the great 
flU bulk and height of the Cathedral than by proceed- 
^^^ ing to the banks of the river Somme northward, 
and from this point appraising its architectural wonder 
rising above the large and small old gray houses, tier 
above tier, misted in the soft clouds of gray smoke from 
their myriad chimneys, capped with red dots of chimney 
pots, " a giant in repose." 

In approaching Amiens the traveler was offered no 
"coup d'oeil" like that of other cathedral towns; here 
" this largest church in the world except St. Peter's, at 
Rome," was hidden from view as one entered the town, 
and followed the Rue des Trois Cailloux, along what was 
formerly the boundaries of the ancient walls. It was dif- 
ficult to obtain a good view of the facade, that of the 
west point was seen from a parvis, which qualified the 
difference in level between the east and west ends, and 
here was the central porch which took its name, " Porche 
de le Beau Dieu d' Amiens," from the figure of the 
Savior on its central pillar, and of which Ruskin wrote 

57 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

" at the time of its erection, it was beyond all that had 
then been reached of sculptured tenderness." 

It is not known at this time of writing (May, 1917) 
whether Amiens has suffered greatly at the hands of the 
Germans. Perhaps without its destruction there have 
been sufficient crimes committed against the church in the 
name of military necessity, and it thus has been spared. 

For some reason or other Ruskin was not overenthusi- 
astic over Amiens. He described the beautiful " fleche," 
which rose so gracefully from the great bulk against the 
sky, as " merely the caprice of a village carpenter," and 
he further declared that the Cathedral of Amiens is " in 
dignity inferior to Chartres, in sublimity to Beauvais, in 
decorative splendor to Rheims, and in loveliness of figure 
sculpture to Bourges." On the other hand, the great 
Viollet-le-Duc called it the " Parthenon of Gothic Archi- 
tecture." 

Of the two authorities, one may safely pin one's faith 
to the opinion of the eminent Frenchman, who spent his 
life in restoring great works rather than in abusing them. 

Whewell says : " The mind is filled and elevated by 
the enormous height of the building (140 feet) , its lofty 
and many colored clerestory, its grand proportions, its 
noble simplicity. The proportion of height to breadth 
is almost double that to which we are accustomed in 
English cathedrals; the lofty solid piers, which bear up 

58 



AMIENS 

this height, are far more massive in their plan than the 
light and graceful clusters of our English churches, each 
of them being a cylinder with four engaged columns. 
The polygonal E apse is a feature which we seldom see, 
and nowhere so exhibited, and on such a scale ; and the 
peculiar French arrangement which puts the walls at the 
outside edge of the buttresses, and thus forms interior 
chapels all around, in addition to the aisles, gives a vast 
multiplicity of perspective below, which fills out the idea 
produced by the gigantic height of the center. Such 
terms will not be extravagant when it is recollected that 
the roof is half as high again as Westminster Abbey." 
Indeed this great height is only surpassed by that of one 
cathedral in all of France — Beauvais. 

The vast arches here rose to nearly half the height of 
the structure, and then above these the architect placed 
a lovely band or frieze of carved foliage; then the tri- 
forium, and above this the glorious windows, separated 
from each other only by tall slender pillars springing 
gracefully from heavier ones. Nearly all the original 
painted glass was destroyed in the thirteenth century, 
but that which replaced it was of a certainty entirely 
satisfying. 

Between two immense pillars at the entrance to the 
nave were the heavily ornamented gilded brass tombs 

59 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

of the Bishops who founded the Cathedral. That on the 
left was Geoff roi d'Eu, who died in 1236, and on the 
right was that of Evrard de Fouilloy, who died in 1223. 
Each shows a recumbent figure in full robes inclosed in 
Gothic canopies with pointed arches, and sustained by 
lions. The great organ loft was beneath the magnificent 
" rose de mer " window which was filled with the arms 
of the house of Firmin de Coquerel. In the choir were 
one hundred and ten carved stalls, said to have been 
designed and made by local artists of Amiens, and these 
alone would have made any cathedral noteworthy. Ac- 
cording to that eminent authority, Mr. Francis Bond, 
the height of the nave and the aisles is three times their 
span, and this feature gave the eif ect for which the archi- 
tect worked, that is, a splendid blaze of luminosity shin- 
ing down into gloomy and most mysterious shadow. 
This blaze of light and color came not only from the 
clerestory, but also from the triforium, in which the su- 
perb blue glass shone with celestial splendor. 

The meaning of the word " triforium " is perhaps some- 
what obscure to all save architects. 

Herbert Marshall ^ defines the word as " Applied to 
the ambulatory or passage, screened by an arcade, which 
runs between the pier arches and clerestory windows and 
is considered to refer to the three openings, or spaces, 

^ " Gothic Architecture in England." 

60 



AMIENS 

' trinae fores,' into which the arcading was sometimes di- 
vided. It probably has nothing to do with openings in 
multiples of three, nor with a Latinised form of ' thor- 
oughfare ' as suggested by Parker's Glossary, although 
the main idea is a passage running round the inside of a 
church, either as at Westminster, in the form of an ambu- 
latory chamber, or of a gallery pierced through the main 
walls, from whence the structure may be inspected with- 
out the trouble of using ladders. M. Enlart in his 
' Manuel d'Archeologie Frangaise ' derives the word from 
a French adjective, ' trifore,' or ' trifoire,' through the 
Latin ' transforatus,' a passage pierced through the thick- 
ness of the wall ; and this idea of a passageway is certainly 
suggested by an old writer, Gervase, who, in his descrip- 
tion of the new cathedral of Canterbury, rebuilt after the 
fire, alludes to the increased number of passages round the 
church under the word ' triforia.' ' Ibi triforium unum, 
hie duo in Choro, et in ala ecclesiae tercium.' " 

Ruskin wrote in his diary under date of May 1 1 th, 1857 : 
" I had a happy walk here (Amiens) this afternoon, down 
among the branching currents of the Somme: it divides 
into five or six, shallow, green^ and not over wholesome ; 
some quite narrow and foul, running beneath clusters of 
fearful houses, reeling masses of rotten timber; and a 
few mere stumps of pollard willow sticking out of the 
banks of soft mud, only retained in shape of bank by 

61 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

being shored up with timbers ; and boats like paper boats, 
nearly as thin at least, for costermongers to paddle about 
in among the weeds, the water soaking through the lath 
bottoms, and floating the dead leaves from the vegetable 
baskets with which they were loaded. Miserable little 
back yards, opening to the water, with steep stone steps 
down to it, and little platforms for the ducks; and sep- 
arate duck staircases, composed of a sloping board with 
cross bits of wood leading to the ducks' doors ; and some- 
times a flower pot or two on them, or even a flower — one 
group of wall flowers and geraniums curiously vivid, 
being seen against the darkness of a dyer's backyard, 
who had been dyeing black, and all was black in his yard 
but the flowers, and they fiery and pure; the water by 
no means so, but still working its way steadily over the 
weeds, until it narrowed into a current strong enough 
to turn two or three ' wind mills,' ( ! ) one working against 
the side of an old Flamboyant Gothic church, whose 
richly traceried buttresses sloped down into the filthy 
stream; all exquisitely picturesque, and no less miser- 
able. ( I ) We delight in seeing the figures in these boats, 
pushing them about the bits of blue water, in Front's 
drawings; but as I looked to-day at the unhealthy face 
and melancholy mien of the man in the boat pushing his 
load of peat along the ditch, and of the people, men as 
well as women, who sat spinning gloomily at cottage 

62 



AMIENS 

doors, I could not help feeling how many persons must 
pay for my picturesque subject and happy walk." 

The reader will probably exclaim: "Well, if this is 
Ruskin's idea of a ' happy walk,' what then would be 
his description of a gloomy one? " 

We did not find the view of the town so squalid as this. 
Rising against the golden glow of the evening sky, the 
great bulk of the Cathedral massed itself in purple mist, 
Its slender needle-like center tower and spire piercing 
the sky. Below lay the dull reds and slaty grays of the 
houses, concealed here and there by the massive foliage 
of the trees that lined the river bank. Barges of pic- 
turesque shape were tied up to the banks here and there, 
with lines of pink, white and blue freshly washed clothes 
strung along the decks, where children played, and there 
were brightly painted cabin deck houses, all white and 
green, from the chimney pipes of which ascended long 
pale lines of smoke from the galley stoves, showing that 
the evening meal was being cooked. On the decks of 
these barges nervous shaggy dogs ran up and down bark- 
ing furiously at one thing or another; over all seemed to 
rest the air of well being and sweet content. If there 
were stagnant pools of filthy water, as Ruskin claimed, 
we saw them not, nor did the peasants seem unhealthy 
or miserable to our eyes. 

Amiens was delightful to look upon, and we drove 
63 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

back to the hotel quite satisfied with our first view of 
it. 

Day by day afterwards we haunted the great Cathe- 
dral, studying it from every viewpoint. Again and again 
we returned to the choir to gloat over the one hundred 
and ten magnificent stalls, carved as fluently as if 
modeled in clay, the forms so flowing and graceful as 
to suggest living branches, pinnacle crowning pinnacle, 
and detail of grace of design so exquisite as to be almost 
painful to follow — " Imperishable, fuller of leafage than 
any forest, and fuller of story than any book." (Ruskin.) 
The outside wall of the choir was quite concealed by the 
most richly Flamboyant Gothic archwork. In these 
arches were quantities of figures of saints, all emblazoned 
with gold and crimson and blue. These groups have 
been described by Liibke so well that I can do no better 
than quote him : " St. John is shown when he sees Christ 
and points him out to the multitude; then St. John 
preaching in the wilderness, and the Baptism of Christ, 
which is arranged with peculiar beauty and simplicity; 
lastly St. John as a preacher of repentance when the lis- 
tening multitude is depicted with life. Then there are 
four scenes : the Apprehension of St. John ; the Banquet, 
at which Herodias asks for the head of the Preacher of 
Repentance — a scene executed with genre-like style, 
the figures appearing in the costume of the period; the 

64 



AMIENS 

Beheading of St. John; and, lastly, another banquet 
scene, in which the severed head appears on the table, 
and Herodias puts out the eyes, at which her daughter 
sinks in a swoon, and is caught up by a young man, while 
a page in horror runs away with the dish. Below these 
larger representations, in the one case in ten, in the other 
in five medallions, scenes from the youth of St. John 
are depicted. The relief is more shallow, and with sim- 
ple arrangement is very attractive in expression." 

The great blazing rose windows of the transept were 
named " Fire " and " Water," but which was which we 
never quite discovered, because of a difference of opinion 
held by those whom we questioned, but this did not in 
the least affect our opinion of their great artistic value, 
or interfere with our admiration. 

In the south transept we readily found the gravestone 
in memory of the Spanish Captain Hernando Tiello, who 
captured Amiens in 1597, and just opposite, the great 
stone sarcophagus of the Canon Claude Pierre, who must 
have been a canon of great importance, to have been so 
favored and placed. In the Chapel of Notre Dame de 
Puy were a great number of marble tablets emblazoned 
with the names of the Fraternity of Puy, and bore reliefs 
in marble, showing scenes in the life of the Virgin Mary. 
Here there was much intricate Flamboyant tracery fram- 
ing some scenes in the life of St. James the Great, of 

6i 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

the sixteenth century style, presented by Canon Guil- 
laume Aucouteaux. 

The north transept contained the fine monument of 
the Canon Jehan Wyts, who died in 1523. This showed 
the temple at Jerusalem, in four scenes depicting the 
"Sanctum," the "Atrium," the " Tabernaculum," and 
" Sanctum-Sanctorum." In this transept was buried the 
remains of the comic poet " Gresset," who flourished in 
the eighteenth century, and a great shrine for the head of 
John the Baptist, said to be incased here, and to have 
been brought from the Holy Land and presented with 
imposing ceremonies, by the Crusader Wallon de Sarton, 
who was likewise Canon of Picquigny. Singularly 
enough there were several other heads incased in magnifi- 
cent jeweled reliquaries which were to be seen in other 
churches, notably in the south of France, and in Genoa, 
each one claiming, with much documentary proof, to be 
the sole and only authentic head of the Great Preacher 
of Repentance. 

In one of the chapels in the left aisle of the nave, 
that of St. Saulve, was a remarkable crucifix, which en- 
joyed great repute, for it was gravely alleged to have 
bowed its head upon the occasion of the installment of 
the sacred relics of St. Honore. 

Inside the great open porches the whole space was 
filled with the most delicate fourteenth century lacework 

66 



AMIENS 

in stone. The principal one showed on its frontal a 
statue of St. Michael conquering the dragon. The fine 
ironwork of the doors was made in the thirteenth and 
fourteenth centuries by natives of Amiens, whose names 
are forgotten. Walter Pater (" Miscellaneous Studies ") 
says ; " The builders of the church seem to have pro- 
jected no very noticeable towers; though it is conven- 
tional to regret their absence, especially with visitors 
from England, where indee'd cathedral and other towers 
are apt to be good and really make their mark. . . . The 
great western towers are lost in the west front, the grand- 
est, perhaps the earliest, of its species — three profound 
sculptured portals; a double gallery above, the upper 
gallery carrying colossal images of twenty-two kings of 
the house of Judah, ancestors of our Lady; then the great 
rose; above it the Singers' Gallery, half marking the 
gable of the nave, and uniting at their topmost stories 
the twin, but not exactly equal or similar towers, oddly 
oblong in plan as if meant to carry pyramids or spires. 
In most cases these early Pointed churches are entangled, 
here and there, by the construction of the old round- 
arched style, the heavy Norman or other, Romanesque 
chapel or aisle, side by side, though in strange contrast, 
with the soaring new Gothic nave or transept. But of 
the older manner of the round arch, the ' plein-cintre,' 
Amiens has nowhere, or almost nowhere, a trace. The 

67 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Pointed style, fully pronounced, but in all the purity of 
its first period, found here its completest expression." 

Amiens, the ancient capital of Picardy, was one of 
the greatest of the manufacturing towns of France. 
There were many large factories engaged in the produc- 
tion of cashmere, velvet, linen, and woolens, and in the 
early morning, and again at night, thousands of the em- 
ployees filled the streets of the town on their way to and 
from work. It was called by the Ambiani, before it was 
captured by Csesar, Samarobriva, and was their chief 
town. 

Christianity was introduced by St. Firmin in the year 
301, which perhaps is as far back as any one cares to go 
in the matter. And history farther cautions the reader 
not to confound this St. Firmin with that other St. Fir- 
min, who was only a " Confessor " or something of the 
sort. 

The Normans seem to have had a strong desire to put an 
end to the town, for they regularly pillaged and burned 
it. The place was ceded to the Duke of Burgundy in 
1435, but was recovered in 1463 by Louis XI. The 
Spaniards conquered it in 1597, but Henry IV retook it 
from them. The Peace of Amiens between France, 
Great Britain, Spain and Holland was signed here in 
1802. 

The battle of Amiens, in the Franco-Prussian War, re- 
68 



AMIENS 

suited in the entry of the Germans in November, 1870. 
Its present fate is problematical, but it would seem, in 
view of the retirement of the invader northward of 
Arras and Lens, that the great and noble monuments of 
the ancient town are now safe. 

Heinrich Heine long ago wrote the following pro- 
phetic words: " Christianity — and this is its highest 
merit — has in some degree softened, but it could not 
destroy, the brutal German joy of battle. When once 
the taming talisman, the Cross, breaks in two, the sav- 
agery of the old fighters, the senseless Berserker fury, of 
which the Northern poets sing and say so much, will 
gush up anew. That talisman is decayed, and the day 
will come when it will piteously collapse. Then the old 
stone gods will rise from the silent ruins, and rub the 
dust of a thousand years from their eyes. Thor, with 
his giant's hammer, will at last spring up, and shatter to 
bits the Gothic Cathedrals." 



69 



Wttmt 



H^Mtm 



^jt^HE delightful banks of the river Somme are im- 
flU printed on one's memory among those " sweet 
^■'^ places " where it would seem as though man could 
not but choose to be happy, so liberally had nature decked 
them with her gifts. Yet all of this region formerly 
known as Flanders, has from time immemorial been war's 
favorite playground, " the Cockpit of Europe." 

Even in the intervals of wars, strife equally bitter, if 
less bloody, has raged here, — the struggle of industry 
against adequate reward. One could never forget the 
sight of women laboring early and late in the fields, or 
harnessed together at the end of long tow lines, pain- 
fully dragging barges against the current of the river, 
or in the factory yards, trampling with bare feet a mix- 
ture of coal dust and clay which, molded into briquettes, 
was used as fuel. 

Strangely enough, these women and girls, some of them 
of tender age, seemed happy and content with their work. 
The sound of their singing as they labored could be 
heard for a long distance. As the barges passed on the 
river bank, with these women bending forward, straining 

73 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

at the yoked ends of the tow rope, moving slowly step 
by step, we noted that not seldom they were quite hand- 
some of face, and of good figure. Invariably they 
saluted us good humoredly with smiles, but when I re- 
moved my hat in response, I could see that this courtesy 
struck them as unusual, and did not leave the impression 
I desired. Thereafter I modified the salutation. 

At the inn in Peronne a young " commis-voyageur " 
with whom I made conversation, and related this inci- 
dent, told me that I had better beware of offering such 
civilities in future, since these Amazons had been known 
to seize strangers for fancied offenses, and after giving 
them rough treatment, cast them into the river. He 
called upon the proprietor of the inn to substantiate his 
warning, and the latter satisfied me as to its truth, giving 
details which need not be set down here, and which quite 
decided the matter. 

Peronne as an historic and notable town was second 
to none in all Picardy. Here the early kings had a great 
palace given to them by Clovis II. 

Erchinold, the Mayor, erected a monastery near by for 
Scotch monks, presided over by St. Fursy. Not a trace 
of this now remains. It is said to have contained the 
tomb of Charles the Simple, who died of famine at the 
hands of Hubert in a dungeon. When Philip d' Alsace, 
Count of Vermandois, was killed in the Crusades ( 1 199) 

74 




..ill'*., n 



J-)'? 



c^<:^- 



(.,„,.^(,., 



PERONNE 

the towns of Peronne and St. Quentin were united to the 
crown of France, and so remained. Charles V, in 1536, 
unsuccessfully besieged Peronne, and during this siege 
a young woman named Marie Fourre performed prodi- 
gious deeds of heroism which history records. 

The great Ligue of 1577 was proclaimed here, follow- 
ing its announcement at Paris. Until the Duke of Wel- 
lington captured it on his way to Paris" after the battle 
of Waterloo, Peronne-la-Pucelle had never been taken 
by an enemy. 

In the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, Peronne was 
sacked and burned after a most memorable siege, in 
which many of the remarkable old buildings were de- 
stroyed, but in 1910 the town, when I last saw it, was 
one of the quaintest in all Picardy. There was a re- 
markable old church here, that of St. Jean, which dated 
from the sixteenth century, which had a portal of three 
Gothic arches and arcades surmounted by a great flam- 
boyant rose-window, the glass of which, though modern, 
was of fine quality and workmanship. It had a tower 
flanked by a " tourelle " of beautiful proportions, and in 
the interior the vaulting, pulpit, and the stained glass 
windows were pronounced by experts to be well-nigh 
faultless. 

This church, and the most singular and picturesque 
Hotel de Ville (sixteenth century) , a sketch of which I 

75 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

made in 1910, the invaders took great pains entirely to 
destroy in April, 1917, when they made their celebrated 
" victorious retreat." The latest accounts say that not a 
trace of these two remarkable monuments now exists, that 
for a week or more before the retreat, the German engi- 
neers used tons of explosives to destroy them. 

The gray old square before the Hotel de Ville is now 
a yawning pit, bordered by shapeless piles of stone and 
ashes. 

At this time we know not what other mischief the in- 
vader has committed in this neighborhood. There are 
endless opportunities for destruction and pillage, and we 
may be fully prepared for irreparable damage and losses 
in all of this region before the Iconoclasts are driven back 
to their last line of defenses. 

All of Champagne, of Ficardy, — all of Flanders were 
filled with exquisite villages, towns, and cities, each of 
which was unique in works of art and antiquity. These 
have shriveled like a garden of flowers before a heavy 
frost. This great catastrophe has so stunned humanity, 
that we are only beginning to realize what it means. 

The invader says contemptuously that no cathedral is 
worth the life of one German soldier. So Rheims has 
been destroyed; so St. Peter's of Louvain; so — but 
why enumerate here? — The list is recorded in letters 
of fire. 

76 



(tmioM, and th^ Snidll 






^|MHE "Cameracum" of ancient days of Roman 
lU occupation, holding this name up to the twelfth 
^■^ century, Cambrai, at the outbreak of the war in 
1914, was entirely satisfying to the seeker of the charms 
of picturesqueness, as well as the historian. After what 
is known as the period of the Antonine Itinerary, it be- 
came the capital of a petty episcopal arrondisement, 
under the protection of the Dukes of Burgundy who, 
unable to hold it, gave it over " for privileges " to the 
German emperors, who thereafter retained it under the 
title of " Chatelains," as it was a fortified stronghold. 

Situated on a hillside on the right bank of the river 
Scheldt, it was a busy and prosperous commercial town, 
with a semi-Flemish population of about twenty-five 
thousand. Its history in thumbnail form is as follows : 

In 1508 the Emperor Maximilian, Pope Julius II, 
Ferdinand of Aragon, and Louis XII of France formed 
here the celebrated League of Cambrai, which was di- 

79 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

rected against Venice. In 1529 the so-called Paix de 
Dames was signed by Louise of Savoy and Margaret of 
Austria, who negotiated its provisions in the castle on the 
hill, for Francis I and Charles V. However, by the 
treaty of Nimwegen, Louis XV recovered it, and it was 
thus held by France until captured by the Duke of Wel- 
lington in 1815. 

Many celebrated men were born at Cambrai, or became 
identified with the town, such as the chronicler, Enguer- 
rand de Monstrelet, who died in 1453. The great 
Fenelon was Archbishop of Cambrai, as was also Cardinal 
Dubois, who served as minister for Louis XV, and then 
follows an array of names that lent glory to the annals of 
Flanders. 

Perhaps few know that the town gave name to that 
fine linen which was produced here in the fifteenth cen- 
tury, the invention of a native named Baptiste. The 
English named the cloth " Cambric," but to the Flemish 
and French it was known, and is still for that matter, 
as " Ba'tiste " after the inventor. At the outbreak of 
the war this linen cloth was the chief product of the 
town. 

Entrance to the town was through the gate called 
" Porte Robert," near which was the citadel. There was 
a large and impressive square called the " Esplanade," 
where statues had been raised to " Batiste " and the his- 

80 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

torian " Enguerrand de Monstrelet." Then followed 
the " Place aux Bois," lined with handsome trees, and 
large " Place d'Arms," on which was the " Hotel de 
Ville," which, while of comparatively modern construc- 
tion and rebuilt in the last century, was sufficiently in- 
teresting even to a student of ancient Flemish architec- 
ture. Its most elaborate fagade was sculptured by one 
Hiolle of Valenciennes. The tower bore two gigantic 
statues, much venerated by the townspeople, named re- 
spectively " Martin " and " Martine," but curiously 
enough there was a wide difference of opinion as to which 
was which, some saying that the left hand giant was 
Martin, and others protesting the contrary. The figures 
dated from the time of Charles V, and were presented by 
him to the town in 1510. 

On the square at the opening of the Rue St. Martin was 
a fine Gothic belfry dated 1447, and attached to the 
church of that name. This contained a notable chime of 
bells, a carillon, the work of the Hemonys.^ In the Rue 
de Noyon was the Cathedral of " Notre Dame," part of 
which had been rebuilt since a fire which consumed it 
about sixty years ago. The interior contained notably 
the fine marble and bronze monument of Fenelon, and a 
statue to this celebrity, the work of David d' Angers, 
all worth a considerable journey to see. The body of 

^ See " Vanished Towers and Chimes of Flanders," for chapter on bell 
founding, 

81 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

the church was of the eighteenth century and while of 
purity in detail, offered no very striking features. There 
were eight very large mural paintings " en grisaille" 
after the works of Rubens, by Geeraerts, a modern 
artist of Antwerp, but these, despite the obvious merit 
of the work, seemed somehow out of key with the in- 
terior. 

Wandering about, we came upon a small street in 
which we found a remarkable collection of paintings of 
the Netherlands School owned by a private collector, who 
was pleased to show them, and delighted by our enthu- 
siasm over their qualities. This gentleman insisted upon 
becoming our guide about the town, and showed us so 
many attentions that my Lady Anne became bored with 
him, and this led to our leaving Cambrai before the time 
we had set — but we left a letter of appreciation and 
thanks addressed to him. 

He it was who brought us to the church of St. Gery in 
the Place Fenelon, on the site of one founded by St. Vaast 
in 520. This had a remarkable dome which was upheld 
by four very slender columns, of very unusual character, 
and there was also a magnificent renaissance " jube," or 
altar screen, of colored marble, and a transept containing 
a large painting of the " Entombment," attributed to 
Rubens. The " Episcopal Palace of Fenelon " was just 
across the street, or at least a fragment of the original 

82 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

building, with a very richly decorated triple portal in 
the Renaissance style. 

It was this palace that Fenelon opened to the fugitives 
of the battle of Malplaquet, who thronged the town of 
Cambrai for protection and food. History states that 
every corner of the building was filled with the hapless 
people, and their small belongings hastily gathered to- 
gether in the flight. The gardens and courts were 
crowded with cows, calves, and pigs, and the scene is said 
to have been indescribable. Emanuel de Broglie, who 
wrote the account ("Fenelon a Cambrai," de Broglie), 
says, " Officers to the number of one hundred and fifty, 
both French and prisoners of war, were received by Fene- 
lon at his house, and seated at his table at one time." 
"God will help us," said the Archbishop; "Providence 
hath infinite resources on which I can confidently rely. 
Only let us give all we have : it is my duty and my pleas- 



ure. 



Over the side doors were inscriptions on " banderoles " 
—"A Clare Justitia " on one, and on the other "A 
gladio pax." The fine "Chateau de Selles," on the 
banks of the Scheldt River, was built in the fifteenth 
century. The beautiful reliefs of its gables, its statues, 
and the wrought iron grills of its balconies were still per- 
fect, and the view from its green terrace was most en- 
joyable. 

83 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

There was a curious sort of penthouse shown to us, near 
a building called " Vieux Chateau " of which pillars with 
rudely sculptured capitals remained. Near this was a 
well with some ancient rusty ironwork, and a stone 
which our quondam guide said had served in ages long 
ago as a block in executions. Somehow we thought that 
he lied, and with considerable skill withal, but we dis- 
missed him with payment of a franc for his pains. He 
did not go, however, but followed us about at a distance 
muttering to himself and occasionally waving his hands 
in a most absurd manner, until at length we happily lost 
him. 

There was a curious small building called the Grange 
aux Dimes, divided into two parts, one subterranean, the 
other on the level of the soil. Two staircases, one inside, 
the other outside, led to a hall on the first floor. This 
was divided by two ranges of pillars, with ornate capitals 
of foliage. The door to the subterranean passage was 
unfastened and we ventured down into the darkness and 
must for a short distance. I am convinced that we might 
have had some adventures below had we explored the 
tunnel. Near this was " Le Puits," supposed to be the 
entrance to other vast vaults, a subterranean town ex- 
tending beneath the hill for miles, and formerly used for 
many purposes in the Middle Ages. 

These vaults were to be found in many of the towns 
84 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

hereabouts, and during the occupancy of the country by 
the Germans since the invasion of 1914, the soldiers have 
used them to store away ammunition and supplies. Over 
these small towns for three years now have raged battles 
the like of which for fierceness and bloody loss the world 
has never seen. 

The small town of Marcoing, about five miles from 
Cambrai, had one of these wonderful caverns of refuge 
dating from the Middle Ages, and there were others at 
Villers-Guizlain and at Honnecourt, where there were 
the ruins of a Roman town, and an immense church with 
a porch of the eleventh century. This was said to have 
been a famous place of pilgrimage in the twelfth century. 
Tradition has it that in that century three brothers of the 
family of Courcy le Marchais were taken prisoners dur- 
ing the crusades. In the power of the Sultan they lan- 
guished, until at length he bethought him to send his 
young daughter to their dungeon, where they lay in 
chains, thinking that she might by the power of her 
beauty and eloquence bring them to the faith of the Mus- 
sulmans. But strange to relate, she it was who suc- 
cumbed to the arguments of the three fair-haired brothers^ 
and finally promised to become a Christian provided that 
they show her an image of the Holy Virgin of whom they 
had so eloquently told her. Now the three brothers had 
no image of the Virgin, everything having been taken 

85 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

from them when they were cast into the dungeon. But 
all at once, says the Chronicle, the image of the Virgin 
bathed in golden Celestial light appeared miraculously 
before them in a niche on the wall, so the Sultan's daugh- 
ter, thus convinced, not only set the three fair-haired 
brothers free, but accompanied them, bearing in her 
bosom the sacred image, which henceforth was enshrined 
here on the altar and venerated. 

The three brothers then built a church in the twelfth 
century, on the site of which this present one of the four- 
teenth century was erected. Its portal was fifteenth cen- 
tury, and at the cross was a spire with quaintly formed 
pinnacles. Inside, a remarkably rich " jube," or altar 
screen, divided the nave from the choir, almost hiding the 
sanctuary containing a singular coal black doll-like sort 
of image, and a large collection of " Ex-votos," with some 
other offerings most tawdry in character. 

North of Valenciennes and very near the Flemish bor- 
der was the old town of St. Amand-les-Eaux, famous for 
its mud baths for the cure of rheumatism and gout since 
the time of the Romans. The town was situated at the 
confluence of the rivers Elnon and Scarpe, and is said to 
have grown up around an abbey built by St. Amand 
in the seventh century. Save for the portal and the fa- 
cade of the church nothing remained of the original struc- 
ture. A tower containing a fine carillon of bells by Flem- 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

ish founders, perhaps the Van den Gheyns of Malines, is 
said to have been designed by Peter Paul Rubens. From 
the summit of the tower a wonderful view of the sur- 
rounding country was had, and for this reason the 
Germans blew it up in April, 1917, before their re- 
treat. 

There was here a quaint Hotel de Ville in the Flemish- 
Renaissance style, much floriated in parts. Let us hope 
that this has been spared. The site of the ancient abbey 
had been most charmingly covered with a blooming gar- 
den of brilliant flowers, and here children and nurses 
played, while " invalides " dozed on the benches in the 
sunlight. From the baths a very wild and beautiful park 
stretched across the country to the forest of Raismes 
through the forest of St. Amand. 

Epehy is another small town now held by the Germans 
because of its strategical value. It is on the ancient Ro- 
man road, or " Chaussee Brunehaut," which runs from 
Arras to Rheims. Under the great church are subterra- 
nean galleries, which, it is said, stretch for unknown dis- 
tances in every direction; indeed, it seems as if the whole 
country hereabouts were undermined by these ancient gal- 
leries, many of which were unexplored, and in some in- 
stances shunned by the peasants as haunted by evil spirits, 
and many and fantastic were the tales told of some of 
these caverns, during the summer days when wanderings 

87 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

about the countryside held us here in happy durance. It 
was delightful to watch the grave old men of the village 
playing bowls or skittles, and their pride over the skill 
which enabled one of them, a patriarch, to account for 
six pins at one shot. His cannoning was the very poetry 
of statics. As a foil the unskillful efforts of the present 
writer were not altogether unsuccessful, for they brought 
to the stolid faces of the players smiles not unkindly, but 
of considerable latitude. 

f In the little " estaminet " (Spanish estamento) at the 
foot of the hill, cutlets, broiled young chicken, and a 
rough and cheap but good sparkling wine, all graced by 
the good humor of the proprietor, raised our content to 
enthusiasm, so we saw and studied the locality, socially 
and mythologically, to the end of its possibilities. 

We found that these peasants, seemingly so phlegmatic 
and commonplace, were really chimerical, and their tales 
and conversation skirted the borderland of fact and 
fancy. The two were so melted down and run into one 
mold as to be impossible of separation. I have listened 
to some of these tales with interest, until the splashes 
of golden light were gone from the valleys and a vast 
canopy of rose-shot lilac emblazoned the setting of the 
sun. In the woods hereabouts, as in other parts of this 
region of caverns, thin mysterious sounds were often aud- 
ible at night to those who had ears to hear : the noise of a 

88 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

distant hunt, the sound of winding horns, the confused 
shouts of a troop of hunters, and the chime of hounds in 
full cry. Pious and superstitious peasants, listening in- 
doors, crossed themselves, those who were abroad in the 
lanes hastened their steps, not glancing in the direction 
from which the sounds came. It was the Wild Chasseur. 
This is the story: St. Amand, Count of the Palatinate, 
lived hereabouts in the tenth century, in a great castle of 
which even the foundations have long since disappeared. 
He was known as a mighty hunter, but was a profane 
prince, caring naught for the worship of the Lord, nor 
the chant of the priest, but following ever the wild crea- 
tures, rather than the ways of truth and righteousness. 
There came one day in the autumn, and it was Sunday, 
long before the coming dawn disclosed the distant dome 
of the Cathedral. When this reckless count mounted his 
great horse, and at the head of an equally reckless band of 
merry hunters, started out on the chase, the great dim 
forests rang with the loud blasts of the horn, and the 
loud shouts of the young men broke the calm stillness of 
the holy day and scandalized the good priests, and the 
pious people of the neighborhood. Out came the noisy 
cavalcade into the open where four roads met. To them, 
one from the North and one from the South, and gallop- 
ing furiously, came two horsemen ; the one from the North 
was young, blonde and handsome, with an air of dis- 

89 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

tinction, all clad in bright new cloak and bonnet of 
golden yellow. 

The cavalier from the South seemed a man of temper, 
and was of sinister visage, bestriding a great horse of 
a temper to match that of its rider. His costume was of 
black velveteen save for his headpiece of scarlet cloth, 
which flowed scalloped down his back. 

The Count at the head of his troop saluted these two 
strangers courteously and invited them bear him com- 
pany in the chase. 

" My lord," answered the rider from the North, re- 
moving his bonnet, and showing his fair hair in a golden 
mass about his shoulders, " the Sabbath bells are ring- 
ing in your church for the service in praise of our Lord 
and Saviour, Jesus Christ, for 'tis the hour in which the 
voices of men in holy canticle are sent on high asking 
forgiveness of our sins and iniquities. This day is 
sanctified to Him above. I do bid you now accompany 
me unto the throne of Grace, on bended knee, in all 
humility. — For upon the offender shall descend the 
vengeance of the Most High, forever and ever." 

"In Satan's name, Sir Golden Locks!" answered 
St. Amand scornfully, " thou hast a tongue like a ranting 
priest. What right hast thou to wear a sword, pray? 
— I have no mind for canticles to-day! " 

90 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

Loud laughed the troop of cavaliers at this, and then 
was heard the voice of the rider in black from the South, 
whose great horse champed the bit and tossed its head 
restlessly. 

"Come, let us away, St. Amandl What care have 
we for monastery bells and sniveling priests ! — Let us 
to the noble chase for mass, with sound of the winding 
horn for organ note ! " 

"Well said. Sir Red Crest," replied St. Amand, 
with a loud laugh and a wave of his gauntleted hand. 
" Ventre son gris! Let us away then I " 

The whole troop sprang forward at the word. Over 
the hills, through the ravines and deep ditches, and into 
the dark woods, ever rode the strangers, one at the 
right and one at the left of St. Amand. On the right, 
the fair young golden haired knight, and on the left, the 
black clad sinister man with the crimson hood. 

All at once appeared among the great trunks of the 
beech trees an antlered deer white as the driven snow, 
which after one startled look at the furiously riding troop 
of men, sped away like the wind. With winding horn 
the hunters pursued it over the green meadows and up 
and down the hills, trampling corn fields and peasant 
gardens under foot all unmindful of what ill they did. 
Naught counted for these men but the chase, and ever 

91 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

St. Amand headed the band, and on his right rode the 
fair young blonde rider from the North and on his left 
the swarthy knight from the South. 

Finally, with trembling limbs the antlered deer slack- 
ened its speed before the open door of a chapel in the 
midst of the wildwood. Here stood the frightened ani- 
mal, its fur flicked with bloody foam, unable to stir a 
step further. From the open door of the chapel stepped 
a holy friar, who placed a sheltering arm about the pant- 
ing animal's neck, and stood with uplifted arm warn- 
ing back the band of hunters. In vain did the fair- 
haired stranger plead with Amand to spare the deer, 
for the jeering voice of the knight of the scarlet hood 
urged him on, and dismounting from his horse Count St. 
Amand pushed aside the monk and was about to run the 
animal through with his hunting knife, when there came 
a burst of thunder sound that shook the earth as though 
the heavens had fallen. 

The Count was stunned: When he came to himself 
he was alone in a clear space in the forest; the chapel, 
the deer, the monk, all his band, including the two 
strangers, had vanished as though they had never been. 
Over all was a terrible silence. When St. Amand at- 
tempted to call, no sound came from his parched lips. 
Then came a blinding flash of lightning, which split the 
darkness, and on the wings of the rushing wind he heard 

92 



CAMBRAI, AND THE SMALL TOWNS 

a terrible voice in judgment. — " Even as thou hast 
flouted and mocked at the Lord thy God, and have had 
no compassion upon man nor beast, so shalt thou fly be- 
fore the wrath of the Most High I Pass on then, thou 
accursed Knight, forever be thou the hunted by evil 
spirits until the end of the world! " 

" And so," continues the legend, " since that day the 
wraith of that sinful Count St. Amand has haunted these 
hills and dales by night, and these great caverns under- 
neath by day, the fiends of hell at his heels. After him 
fly these hideous fiends, driving him ever on towards the 
judgment that waits him on the last day." 

As may be surmised, with such tales as this to hold 
over the youth of the valleys, the people hereabouts were 
most devout and God fearing. Here in this region have 
raged battles innumerable from the earliest days of his- 
tory, with fire, famine and pestilence. It was all pros- 
perous, when I last saw it, and charming to look upon. 
But now the beautiful orchards have been cut down by 
the invader, the homesteads have been burned, and the 
once happy peasants transported to hard labor in an- 
other country. 



93 



gt. <^ufntin 



St* ^nMn 



^jt^ GLY and down at the heel," were the uncompli- 
^eM mentary terms used by an aesthetic fellow traveler 
^•'"^ to describe this prosperous manufacturing town 
situated rather picturesquely on a hill rising above the 
banks of the river Somme. And while it may be ad- 
mitted that St. Quentin is* not very clean looking when 
viewed from the railway station, certainly a later and 
more intimate inspection revealed charms which repaid 
leisurelyinvestigation on our part, and even our first view 
of the gray walls and gables of the houses, and the 
quaint pinnacles of the town hall, and the tower of the 
church rising against the golden glow of the sunset sky 
was quite satisfying. 

The road to the town on the hill was by way of the 
Rue de ITsle, which brought us to the small square on 
which was the flamboyant Gothic Hotel de Ville. It had 
a most charming and unusual pent roof, over which rose 
a slender tower with large clock face shining in the sun- 
light. On the ground floor of the fagade was an open 
arcaded gallery above which were richly ornamented 

97 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

flamboyant Gothic windows divided by niches. The 
upper story had a quaint and ornate balustrade and three 
gables. From the central gable the campanile rose grace- 
fully. 

This much we were able to see on our way to the Hotel 
du Cygne, the landlady of which gave us more comfort 
than our quondam traveling companion had led us to 
expect. This individual quite abandoned us to our fate 
thereafter, as impossible Yankees who gloated over pic- 
turesqueness and gables, and meekly ate whatever was 
set before them — even of an omelette which he scorned, 
and fussed about at the table d'hote. He listened with 
a sarcastic grin to our admiring comment on the furnish- 
ings of the dining-room, with its paneled walls in the 
Flemish fashion, on which hung brass placques and some 
good old china plates, and after lighting a cigarette, 
noisily kicked back his chair, shrugged his shoulders, and 
vanished from our ken forever. 

Madame told us that he was a " commis-voyageur " in 
the woolen trade, from Brussels, and " bien difficile." 

St. Quentin was the ancient capital of the Gaulish 
Veromanduens, and took its present name from Caius 
Quintinus, a priest who came here to preach Christianity 
in the third century, and for his pains was martyred by 
the Prefect Rictius Varus. 

98 



ST. QUENTIN 

Honor to his remains was encouraged by St. Eloi in 
the time of Dagobert. 

Whilst here we may recall that the building of the 
Escurial was due to a vow which Philip II of Spain made 
in case of success, when he was besieging St. Quentin in 

1557- 

The town was given back to France in 155'9, and in 
the following year was bestowed as a dowry upon Mary 
Stuart, who possessed its revenues till her death. On 
January 19, 1871, a great victory was gained near St. 
Quentin by the Prussian General Goeben over the French 
army of the north,"^ under Faidherbe. 

In the " Place du Huit Octobre " was a very good 
monument by Barrias, symbolizing the successful de- 
fense of the town against the first attack by the Germans 
on October 8, 1870. We found that the Hotel de 
Ville contained a most unusual " Salle du conseil," a 
large well proportioned room, the roof of which rested 
upon two circular wooden vaults. This was furnished 
with a most elaborate mantel or chimney piece in the 
mixed Gothic and Renaissance styles, and of remarkable 
workmanship. In the great German retreat of April, 
1917, this noble building was blown up with bombs. 
Perhaps they placed upon it, as they did upon other 

^ Hare's " Northeastern France." 

99 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

shattered structures, a sign bearing the inscription: 
" Nicht Argern, nur Wundern." 

There was a noble " Collegiate Church of St. Quentin " 
near this Hotel de Ville, considered by architects to be a 
splendid example of French Gothic of the twelfth to the 
fifteenth centuries. This was unfortunately so shut in 
by small buildings as to make a study of it difficult. Its 
choir, nave, and portal, and its really vast height, formed 
unusual features, and added to these wonders were the 
beautiful triforium and terminal windows of the prin- 
cipal transept (there were two of these, " very rare in a 
Gothic church," says Hare) . 

The oldest part of the church was easily discovered 
between these transepts. There were seven absidal 
chapels; in that of St. Roch was the incised tombstone of 
" Mahaus Patrelatte," dated 1272. 

Under the choir were crypts said to have been of the 
ninth century, and in one of these was a stone sarcopha- 
gus of St. Quentin and SS. Victoricus and Gentianus, 
who were St. Ouentin's companions in martyrdom. The 
west portal of the church was formerly adorned with a 
large number of statues, vestiges of which were plainly 
visible. A statue of Quentin Delatour, a famous drafts- 
man in crayon of the eighteenth century, a native of the 
town, stood before the church; it was by Lauglet the 
sculptor, and of considerable merit. A collection of 

100 



ST. QUENTIN 

Delatour's crayon drawings were in the small museum 
in the rue du Petit-Origny. . . . 

Unfortunate St. Quentin, now once more in ashes, and 
this time so completely obliterated that nothing remains 
on the hill but some blackened ragged piles of masonry, 
was besieged by Philip II in 1558, when war broke out 
between Picardy and Flanders. 

" Philip II had landed there with an army of forty- 
seven thousand men, of whom seven thousand were 
English. Never did any great sovereign and great poli- 
tician provoke and maintain for long such important 
wars without conducting them in some other fashion than 
from the recesses of his cabinet and without ever having 
exposed his life on the field of battle. The Spanish army 
was under the orders of Emmanuel-Philibert, Duke of 
Savoy, a young warrior of thirty, who had won the con- 
fidence of Charles V. He led it to the siege of St. Quen- 
tin, a place considered one of the bulwarks of the 
kingdom. 

" Philip II remained at some leagues' distance in the 
environs. Henry II was ill prepared for so serious an 
attack; his army, which was scarcely 20,000 strong, 
mustered near Laon under orders of the Duke of Nevers, 
Governor of Champagne; at the end of July, 1557, it 
hurried into Picardy, under the command of the Con- 
stable de Montm-orency, who was supported by Admiral 

101 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

de Coligny, his nephew, by the Duke of Enghien, by the 
Prince of Conde, by the Duke of Montpensier, and by 
nearly all the great lords and the valiant warriors of 
France. They soon saw that St. Quentin was in a de- 
plorable state of defense ; the fortifications were old and 
badly kept up; soldiers and munitions of war, as well as 
victuals were all equally deficient. Coligny did not 
hesitate, however ; he threw himself into the place on the 
2nd of August during the night with a small corps of 700 
men and Saint Remy, a skillful engineer, who had al- 
ready distinguished himself in the defense of Metz. 
The Admiral packed off the useless mouths, repaired the 
walls at the points principally threatened, and reani- 
mated the failing courage of the inhabitants. 

" The Constable and his army came within hail of the 
place; and d'Andelot, Coligny's brother, managed with 
great difficulty to get 450 men into it. 

" On the loth of August the battle was begun between 
the two armies. The Constable affected to despise the 
Duke of Savoy's youth : ' I will soon show him,' said he, 
' a move of an old soldier.' 

" The French army, being very inferior in numbers, 
was for a moment on the point of being surrounded. 
The Prince of Conde sent the Constable warning. ' I 
was serving in the field,' answered Montmorency, ' be- 

102 



ST. QUENTIN 

fore the Prince of Conde came into the world; I have 
good hopes of still giving him lessons in the art of war 
for some years to come.' 

" The valor of the Constable and his comrades-in-arms 
could not save them from the consequences of their stub- 
born recklessness, and their numerical inferiority; the 
battalions of Gascon infantry closed their ranks, with 
pikes to the front, and made a heroic resistance, but all 
in vain, against repeated charges of the Spanish cavalry;, 
and the defeat was total. 

" More than 3,000 men were killed; the number of pris- 
oners amounted to double this figure ; and the Constable, 
left upon the field with his thigh shattered by a cannon 
ball, fell into the hands of the Spaniards, as was also the 
case with the Dukes of Longueville and Montpensier, la 
B.ochefoucauld, d'Aubigne, etc. . . . The Duke of Eng- 
hien, Viscount de Turenne and a multitude of others, 
many great names amidst a host of obscure, fell in the 
fight. The Duke of Nevers and the Prince of Conde, 
sword in hand, reached La Fere with the remnants of 
their army. Coligny remained alone at St. Quentin with 
those who survived of his little garrison, and a hundred 
and twenty arquebusiers whom the Duke of Nevers threw 
into the place at a loss of three times as many. Coligny 
held out for a fortnight longer, behind walls that were 

103 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

in. ruins and were assailed by a victorious army. At 
length, on the 27th of August, the enemy entered St. 
Quentin in shoals. 

" The Admiral, who was still going about the streets 
with a few men to make head against them, found him- 
self hemmed in on all sides, and did what he could to 
fall into the hands of a Spaniard, preferring rather to 
await on the spot the common fate than to incur by flight 
any shame or reproach. They took him prisoner, after 
having set him to rest a while at the foot of the ram- 
parts, and took him away to their camp, where as he 
entered, he met Captain Alonzo de Cazieres, command- 
ant of the old bands of Spanish infantry; when up came 
the Duke of Savoy, who ordered the said Cazieres to take 
the Admiral to his tent.^ 

" D'Andelot, the Admiral's brother, succeeded in es- 
caping across the marshes. Being thus master of St. 
Quentin, Philip II, after having attempted to put a stop 
to the carnage and plunder, expelled from the town, 
which was half in ashes, the inhabitants who had surr 
vived, and the small adjacent fortresses of Ham and 
Catalet did not hesitate long before surrendering. Five 
years later, in 1557, after the battle and capture of St. 
Quentin, France was in a fit of stupor; Paris believed 

^ Commentaire de Frangois de Rabutin sur les Guerres entre Henri II., roi 
de France, et Charles Quint, empereur. Vol. I, p. 95, in the Petitot Collec- 
tion. 

104 



ST. QUENTIN 

the enemy to be already beneath her walls ; many of the 
burgesses were packing up and flying — some to Orleans, 
some to Bourges, some still further." ^ 

And now once more history repeats itself in the sack- 
ing and burning of this quaint town, in the retreat of the 
invader of 1914, after three years of agony endured by 
its people. " God makes no account of centuries, and 
a great deal is required before the most certain and most 
salutary truths get their place and their rights in the 
minds and communities of men," says Guizot, quaintly, 
and thus dismisses the record of Henry II : " On the 
29th of June, 1559, a brilliant tournament was cele- 
brated in lists erected at the end of the street of Saint 
Antoine, almost at the foot of the Bastile. Henry II, the 
Queen, and the whole court had been present at it for 
three days. 

" The entertainment was drawing to a close. The 
King, who had run several tilts ' like a sturdy and skill- 
ful Cavalier,' wished to break yet another lance, and 
bade the Count de Montgomery, captain of the guards, 
to run against him. Montgomery excused himself; but 
the King insisted. The tilt took place. The two 
jousters, on meeting, broke their lances skilfully; but 
Montgomery forgot to drop at once, according to usage, 
the fragment remaining in his hand; he unintentionally 

^ Guizot's " Histoire de France." Vol. Ill, p. 204. 
105 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

struck the King's helmet and raised the visor, and a 
splinter of wood entered Henry's eye; he fell forward 
upon his horse's neck." 

All the appliances of art were useless; the brain had 
been pierced. Henry II languished for eleven days and 
expired on the tenth of July, 1559, aged forty years and 
some months. " An insignificant man and a reign with- 
out splendor, though fraught with facts pregnant of 
grave consequences," concludes the historian. 

The fame of Henry Martin, noted as an historian, who 
died in 1883, was commemorated by a bronze statue 
" such as the chimes and the great bell of the Collegiate 
erected before the Lycee, a rather handsome building in 
the Rue du Palais de Justice. Before leaving St. Quen- 
tin in April, 1917, the invaders shipped this statue to 
Germany, it is announced in the German press, and 
melted it up at the gun works with other scrap metal, 
" such as the chimes and the great bell of the Collegiate 
Church of St. Quentin." 

A few miles to the northeast on the river Oise was the 
small town of Guise, most picturesquely situated, and 
commanded by an ancient castle, or chateau, as these 
ruins are sometimes styled, which dated from the six- 
teenth century, and was occupied by a few soldiers as 
a sort of garrison. In this chateau in troublous times the 
nuns of the Guise, and those of the neighboring nunner- 

106 



ST. QUENTIN 

ies as well, took refuge. There was here, too, a most 
famous chapter of monks, but the nuns were of greater 
renown. These threw off the severe rules of St. Benedict 
in the twelfth century, and becoming " chanoinesses," 
lived apart with the utmost comfort, their abbess bearing 
a scepter rather than a cross. Endowed by successive 
ducal rulers, this chapter became one of the most illus- 
trious of the province. " Its abbess, always chosen from 
a family of the most exalted rank, exercised almost 
sovereign authority over the domain, and furthermore in 
virtue of a document from the Emperor Rudolph (1290) , 
bore the title of Princess of the Holy Empire. She was 
elected only by the united voice of the chapter, and went 
to Rome to receive consecration from the Pope himself 
in the Lateran. To him she is said to have offered in 
sign of homage, every three years, a white horse and a 
piece of purple velvet; and when after many years the 
Pope remitted this tax, she bore, in all solemn proces- 
sions, a red silk banner sprinkled with gold and silver 
buds in remembrance of it. A double handed sword was 
carried before her in processions. She had the right of 
granting liberty to prisoners. In the choir of the cathe- 
dral she sat upon a throne placed upon a carpet of 
crimson velvet ornamented with gold leaves, and upon 
fete days she held ' grand-couvert,' as was the cus- 
tom with sovereigns. The chapter counted sixty-four 

107 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

abbesses, of whom the last in line was Louise-Adelaide de 
Bourbon-Conde." ^ 

Considering its part in history, it is surprising how 
little interest was taken in Guise of late years. In 1339 
the English, under John of Hainault, burned the town, 
but were unable to conquer the castle, owing to the 
courageous resistance of the small body of warriors who 
were commanded by the noble lady of its absent lord, 
the daughter of John of Hainault himself. In the 
curious old crypt were the tombs of several abbesses, and 
the shrine contained the relics of SS. Romaric, Arnat, and 
Idulphe, which the nuns brought with them in the tenth 
century from the old church on the hill. On one of the 
streets were ancient houses with stone arcades. 

Guise was the birthplace of Camille Desmoulins, the 
revolutionary. Near the town, which was busy and 
prosperous, with a population of eight thousand or so, 
there was a sort of workmen's colony upon the com- 
munistic plan, and included a " phalanstere," or common 
dwelling place for the members, upon the Fourier plan, 
founded by some philanthropist. As far as we could 
judge superficially it was successful, and it is said the 
chance visitor was always welcomed most cordially by 
the members who happened to be present. 

These inoffensive people have been shipped away, no 

^ Brantome, Paris, 1822. Vol. I. 

108 



ST. QUENTIN 

one now seems to be able to say just where, and the little 
town, gutted by fire, has ceased to exist save in the 
memory of those who once knew its charm. 

A few miles southwest of St. Quentin, on the river 
Somme, was a small town named Ham, which had, how- 
ever, nothing in common with that excellent viand. 
Here was a famous chateau of the tenth century, of the 
Comtes de Vermondais. In 1374 it passed to the Coucy 
family, and then to the Comtes of St. Pol, from whom 
it came by marriage to the house of Bourbon- Vendome. 
This great stronghold had a donjon, the walls of which 
were thirty-five feet thick, and the room inside it was one 
hundred and ten feet broad, and the same number of 
feet high. In shape it was a rectangle, flanked at each 
corner by a round tower, and with square towers on the 
north and west. Rising from a canal on the northeast 
angle was a huge round tower, named the Tour de Conne- 
table, built by Louis de Luxembourg in 1490. Em- 
blazoned on the stone over the portal was the motto of 
the founder: "Mon Myeulx" (My Best). The walls 
of this tower were said to have been of enormous thick- 
ness. The figures varied so much that I omit all of them, 
but from the appearance of the tower one might believe 
even the most exaggerated statements. 

Its lower apartment was a vast hall of hexagonal shape, 
the vaulting of which was Gothic in style, and we were 

109 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

shown some curious arched spaces, said to be intended for 
furnaces or magazines to be blown up and thus destroy 
the castle in case of its capture. There was a great 
" Salle de Gardes," where the soldiers slept and ate in 
time of siege, and this contained an enormous fireplace, 
a well of considerable depth, and an oven where bread 
had been baked. Above this vast room was the " Cham- 
bre de Conseil," lighted by a single large window, and 
furnished with stone benches below it. Here Jeanne 
d'Arc was imprisoned by Jean of Luxembourg, and many 
other notables languished in the dungeons from the time 
of the Revolution down to the time of the capture of 
Prince Louis Napoleon, in August, 1840, at Boulogne, 
and from which he escaped disguised as a workman on the 
morning of May 22, 1846. He took refuge at St. Quen- 
tin, went thence to Belgium, and finally reached Eng- 
land. 

Like all of the other great castles in the region occupied 
by the invaders. Ham was blown up before the German 
army " victoriously " retreated to the now celebrated 
" Hindenburg " line, in April, 1917. 



110 



t>alfnmnnf0 



t^al^nmnn^s 



^|MH£ town of lace," wrote William of Orange to 
ilJ the Estates on the 13th of April, 1677, " is lost 
^■■^ to us. We are very sorry to be obliged to tell 
your High Mightinesses that it has not pleased God to 
bless on this occasion the arms of the State under our 
guidance." And then fell also to the troops of Louis 
XIV the towns of Cambrai, St. Omer, and the defense 
of Lorraine. 

But there is now no lace made in Valenciennes. The 
larger part of the population of twenty-eight thousand 
worked in the iron foundries and the great machine shops j/^" 

surrounding the town, from which clouds of soft coal 
smoke rose, reminding one of our own Pittsburgh, but 
with the addition of much quaint antiquity, which was 
now (1910) unhappily rapidly disappearing through 
lack of interest on the part of not only the inhabitants but 
the authorities, whom one would think alive to their 
value as an attraction to the town. 

Formerly strongly fortified and most powerful, this 
quaint semi-Flemish town, which was now given over 

113 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

thus to prosaic manufacture, was situated at the junction 
of the rivers Scheldt and Rhondelle. There were huge, 
ugly sugar factories as well as iron mills, indeed, 'tis said 
that nearly all the sugar used in France was produced 
here. 

Like all Flemish towns, Valenciennes had a good deal 
of drunkenness to contend with on the part of its work- 
ing people, but I must confess I saw little of it. 

It is said that Valentinian I, Roman Emperor, gave 
name to the town, which was at first the capital of a small 
independent principality. Later it passed into the hands 
of the Counts of Hainault; suffered and resisted sieges by 
Margaret of Hainault in 1254; by Louis XI, in 1477; 
by Turenne, in 1656; and by the Spaniards in the seven- 
teenth century; and by Scherer in 1794. Since the treaty 
of Nymegen in 1678 it has belonged to France. 

A great many celebrated men were born at Valen- 
ciennes, and all about the statue of Froissart their effigies 
are arranged in a series of medallions. Among these are 
Antoine, Louis and Frangois Watteau, Pujol, the paint- 
ers, Lemaire and Carpeaux, the sculptors, and Charles, 
Sire de Lannoy and Viceroy of Naples — all natives of 
the little town. Madame d'Epinay, the author, also was 
born here. 

Valenciennes had a most attractive and picturesque 
square, which occupied the former glacis of the ancient 

114 



VALENCIENNES 

fortifications demolished about twenty years ago, and 
there was a handsome street, called the Rue de Ferrand, 
upon which was the " Lycee," formerly a Jesuit college, 
and the Ecole des Beaux Arts, in which was a museum 
of natural history, containing a fine collection of min- 
erals of which the townspeople were inordinately proud. 
They quite ignored the value of a splendid collection 
of MSS., numbering nearly a thousand examples of 
mediaeval workmanship, contained in the Municipal 
Library, occupying part of the old Jesuit college. The 
custode wrung his hands in despair at the indifference 
of the authorities to its importance, and became posi- 
tively and alarmingly affectionate over me when I 
showed enthusiasm for some of the specimens, so that I 
had to place myself behind one of the cases where he 
could not well reach me while I examined the illumina- 
tions. There was a fine statue of Antoine Watteau, the 
painter, by the sculptor Carpeaux, with four figures 
grouped about it representing Italian comedy. (This 
statue, I am informed, was shipped to Germany by the 
invaders in 1916, to be melted up and cast into cannon. 
An irreparable loss, as it was considered one of the finest 
examples of the work of Carpeaux.) 

In the Square was the ancient Church of St. Gery, a 
remarkable example of Gothic workmanship dating from 
the thirteenth century, and much studied and valued by 

115 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

architects. In its choir were fine wood carvings illus- 
trating events in the life of St. Norbert, who was the 
founder of the Prsemonstratensian order. The hand- 
some and noteworthy Place d'Armes contained some 
most quaint and ancient timber dwellings, which were 
dated variously during the seventeenth century, and in 
an astonishingly fine state of preservation. But by far 
the most interesting building in Valenciennes was the 
Hotel de Ville, which though lately restored (1868), 
dated from the seventeenth century, the period of the 
Spanish occupation. The fagade was quite imposing, 
consisting of a row of Doric columns, upholding a row 
of Ionic columns, which supported a number of caryatides 
and a sort of open gallery above. Carpeaux designed 
the sculptures ornamenting the pediment, which repre- 
sented the Defense of Valenciennes. 

This building was occupied by the Musee of Paintings 
and Sculpture, which was really one of the most im- 
portant and extensive collections in France of examples 
of the Flemish school of painting. Here I saw in 1910 
a large number of beautiful original drawings, and a 
collection of Flemish tapestries of incalculable value. 
There were nine or ten rooms devoted to the Flemish 
masters, and to mention only a few of the treasures they 
contained, I note here : " Hell-fire " ; Breughel, Toil 
Devoured by Usury; Jordaens, Twelfth Night; Van 

116 



VALENCIENNES 

Balen, Rope of Europa; P. A. da Cortona, Herodias; 
Seghers, St. Eloi and the Virgin; Neets, the younger, 
Church Interior; Vinckboons, Forest; Van Aelst, Still 
Life; Van Mieris, Pan and Syrinx; Al. Adriensis, Fish 
Merchant; Van Goyen, Landscape; " Velvet " Breughel, 
Landscape; Van de Velde, Sea Piece; Van Oost, Adora- 
tion of the Shepherds; Pourbus (younger), Marie de 
Medicis; Brouwer, Tavern Scene; Wouverman, Hunt- 
ers; Teniers, Interior of Grotto; Rubens, Descent from 
the Cross; Guido (?) , St. Peter; Metsys, Banker and His 
Wife. 

The fate of this remarkable collection of Flemish and 
Spanish paintings is at present shrouded in mystery. It 
is said, and denied variously, that they were removed to 
Paris before the German army arrived. I understand 
from reports in the newspapers, which may or may not 
be authentic, that this old Hotel de Ville was entirely 
destroyed by British shells early in the war, and that the 
venerable Maison du Prevost, built during the Spanish 
invasion, and the old timbered and slated houses at the 
corner of the Grand' Place, one of them occupied by the 
" Cafe Modeste," have been entirely destroyed. But at 
present (May, 1917) Valenciennes is behind the curtain 
of mystery drawn over its miseries by the Germans. 

This little town played a small part in the peace of 
Cambrai, called the "Ladies' peace," in honor of the 

117 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Princesses who while at Valenciennes had negotiated it 
there between Charles V and Francis L " Two women, 
Francis I's mother and Charles V's aunt, Louise of Savoy, 
and Margaret of Austria, had the real negotiation of it; 
they had both of them acquired the good sense and the 
moderation which come from experience of affairs and 
from the difficulties in life; they did not seek to give one 
another mutual surprises and to play off one another 
reciprocally. They resided in two contiguous houses, 
between which they caused a communication to be made 
from the inside, and they conducted the negotiation with 
so much discretion that the petty Italian princes who 
were interested in it did not know the results of it until 
peace was concluded on the 5th of August, 1529. . . . 
These women, though morally different and of very un- 
equal social status, both had minds of a rare order, trained 
to recognize political necessities and not to attempt any 
but possible successes. They did not long survive their 
work; Margaret of Austria died on the 1st of December, 
1530, and Louise of Savoy on the 22nd of September, 

1531."^ 

This peace lasted until 1536; incessantly troubled, 
however, by far from pacific symptoms, proceedings and 
preparations, but it was certainly a monument to the skill 
of these two princesses. Charles V, on his way through 

^ Guizot's " France," Vol. Ill, p. 94. 
118 



VALENCIENNES 

the kingdom, after passing a week at Paris, pushed on to 
Valenciennes, the first town in his Flemish dominions, 
where he rested in state. When his eyes rested upon all 
the wealth and cheerful industry that surrounded him 
here, he said (according to Brantome) , " There is not in 
this world any greatness such as that of a King of 
France." 

Valenciennes, when I saw it before the outbreak of the 
great war in 1914, was a rather sleepy little town given 
over to most prosaic manufactures. There was little 
evident picturesqueness; most of the ancient buildings 
had given way to stupid looking stucco covered houses. 
In vain did my Lady Anne seek the lace makers; they 
were not to be found — if they existed. There were no 
bric-a-brac or antique shops, either, wherein one might 
browse, but there was a quaint and most comfortable 
hotel, presided over by a garrulous landlord whose (art- 
ful) innocence and unworldliness quite took us in, and 
whose bill, when presented, proved to be fifty per cent 
more than we had reckoned upon. 

Valenciennes should have been an economical town to 
live in, but it was not so; at least in the delightful hotel, 
which was so well kept and apparently so clean. The 
day following our arrival two charwomen started at the 
top of the house with buckets of water and scrubbing 
brushes. The buckets, by the way, were not the ordinary 

119 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

iron ones, but immense affairs of rough earthenware of 
a rich buff color outside, and a most delicious bright green 
enamel inside. The women scrubbed the floors from 
attic to back door — except the parquet floors — ignor- 
ing the corners, for cleanliness comes evidently very near 
to godliness in these semi-Flemish towns of Northern 
France; they are not very thorough. Following these 
bare-armed amazons came the housemaid with a great 
cake of beeswax, which was fixed into a fork of wood at 
the end of the handle as long and thick as a broomstick. 
With this beeswax she rubbed the floor most energetically 
until the grain of the old oak floor came out clearly. 
Then followed the polisher with a large, thick, flat brush 
made in the form of a sort of sandal which was fastened 
to one foot by a wide strap of leather, the brushless foot 
was kept stationary; the other with deft slides backwards 
and forwards produced a most beautiful polish like var- 
nish. There were few carpets to be found anywhere, 
and in the summer one did not miss them, but I should 
imagine that the houses would be very damp and cold in 
the winter, when there is little provision made for heat- 
ing these old drafty rooms, and (if one might consider 
expense) wood for the grate fires is charged for at the 
rate of " F. 1.25 per basket of nine sticks." (Per pub- 
lished tariff.) 
We were told that the proper way to study this part 
120 



VALENCIENNES 

of the country is to take a small house for the summer. 
One could furnish cheaply here, it was urged, in the 
country style, no carpets, and with the furniture made 
hereabouts. 

My Lady Anne was quite taken with the idea. 

The furniture was in good taste, stained a dark brown; 
it made a charming foil for the bright yellows and pale 
greens of the crockery. 

The bedrooms had alcoves for the beds, with a curious 
little door cut out of the wooden partition wall at the 
back of the bed : this was for the convenience of the house- 
maid, as it saved the necessity of pulling out the bed to 
get behind it. These walls were almost always made of 
boards, and thus the doors were easily cut, so that covered 
with wall paper one scarcely ever noticed them. 

My Lady Anne discovered that the clothing sent to be 
washed was, unless otherwise ordered, sent home rough 
dried! Ironing is special. Following the custom here 
there was no weekly washing day, but washing was done 
once a month or even two months, and this is the reason 
why there were so many of the really fine oak or chestnut 
armoirs to be found. Some of these were most beauti- 
ful, made of polished wood, and had often unique brass 
hinges and locks. Every household had one or more, in 
spite of the fact that the dealers were on the quest for 
them. The peasants who lived off the beaten track of 

121 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

travel willingly parted with them for comparatively 
small prices. We thought it rather extraordinary to find 
in a poor laborer's cottage a specimen of these fine chests 
fit for the hall of a millionaire collector. There were 
also fine wardrobes to be found, with handsomely carved 
chestnut or applewood panels polished like glass, and 
with brass knobs and locks worn bright with the use of 
many generations. 

Occasionally one could find the old fashioned double 
decked bed made of dark oak, and the long heavy Nor- 
man table, which was the household larder, for in its long 
and deep drawer were generally stored the household 
provisions of ham, bacon, or dried fish; never the bread, 
though, for this was kept overhead upon a well polished 
board, in the older houses, hung from the ceiling, well 
out of the way of the rats, the torment of the peasant. 
In these houses the clothes were hung on ropes high up 
against the sloping roofs to prevent these pests from 
gnawing them. The broken necks of bottles were fas- 
tened at the ends of these cords or ropes, and on these 
the rats jumped from the rafters and went spinning over 
onto the floor far beneath. In all the villages there were 
public washing pools, a feature of the country. No 
washing was done in the cottages. Hundreds of peasant 
women washed the clothes, kneeling in long lines at the 

122 



VALENCIENNES 

sides of the streams, keeping up all the time a chattering 
and laughing that could be heard from a distance. 

Sometimes there were shelters overhead for their pro- 
tection from sun and rain, sometimes not. They washed 
the clothes on flat boards, and beat them when lathered 
with a flat wooden sort of paddle. The washing was 
well done too, surprising to tell, but although they say 
not, one would think that the process was rather hard 
upon the clothes. 

These quaint customs quite charmed us, and we were 
inclined to shut our eyes to certain evidences of drunken- 
ness and its accompanying sins among the lower classes 
which could not be concealed, and which perhaps need 
not be entered into here. 

Valenciennes was a manufacturing town, and the con- 
dition of the artisan classes was said to be even worse 
than that in Belgium just over the border. The hours of 
labor were long — unquestionably too long — and said 
to be as a rule fixed by the employer. Children of tender 
age were employed in factory and warehouse, and this 
perhaps explains the stunted appearance of the poor 
people. The law says that no child under sixteen can 
be kept at work for more than twelve hours a day, but it 
is understood that this law was easily evaded. The re- 
sult was inevitable. If the child could be kept at work 

123 



VANISHED HALLS OF FPIANCE 

for twelve hours a day, then it will be understood that an 
adult was assumed to be able to do more. 

Of course the man did not really work as hard as our 
own men do, and that he did piece work, and also that a 
considerable portion of his time must be deducted for 
shirking, for gossip and for rest. Still, at the foundries 
the hours and the labor were both excessive. The 
thought had not occurred to these manufacturers and 
proprietors that a man might do more in sixty hours a 
week than he will do in seventy. The terrible " Bori- 
nage " district of the mines of Belgium, which extends 
as far west as Quevrain on the border, really runs over 
the line, and some of its conditions existed at Blanc 
Misseron, Fresnes, and at Bruay. The name " Bori- 
nage " signifies the place of boring. Here was to be 
found a state of society that does not exist in any other 
part of the country, and the miners and their wretched 
families were a type quite distinct from all the rest of 
their countrymen. By the character of their work and 
by the deficiencies or lack of education, supplemented by 
the poisonous effects of the fiery and deleterious potato 
brandy and other decoctions which they freely imbibe, 
they had sunk into a state of both physical and mental 
decay. 

" A visit to these places is not a pleasant experience, 
124 



VALENCIENNES 

and the closer the acquaintance made with the life of the 
mining population the less attractive does it appear. 
The employment of children of tender years lies at the 

root of the ignorance of the people of the province To 

the proprietors, with rare exceptions, the miners are mere 
beasts of burden, in whom they do not feel the least in- 
terest. No steps whatever are taken to improve the lot 
of the miners, to elevate their ideas, or even to provide 
them with amusement or recreations. . . . The only 
places of resort are the ' Estaminets ' and cabarets that 
are to be found in every third or fourth house. ... It 
is scarcely going too far to say that morality does not 
exist in the Borinage; but the great curse in this com- 
munity is the large number of immature mothers, and the 
consequent inseparable deterioration of the whole race. 
. . . Ignorance and immorality explain the low condi- 
tion to which the mining population has sunk, but even 
these causes would not have produced such an appalling 
result if they had not been supplemented by the preva- 
lence of drunkenness. As there is no restriction upon the 
sale of drink, every house may retail intoxicating liquors, 
and in many places where it is procurable there is no 
external appearance of the place being a drinking shop. 
The room of the cottage will contain a few chairs and 
benches, besides a table, and the liquor comes from a cup- 

125 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

board or an inner room. In warm weather the table and 
chairs are placed outside, and on Sundays and feast days 
there is not one of these houses which will not be crowded 
with visitors. The only amusement known to these 
people is to drink and to get drunk. , . . The beer 
drinkers are the more reasonable drunkards of the two. 
Having soaked themselves with ' faro ' (a thin sour 
beer) they sleep it off. Not so the spirit drinkers, for 
when they have finished their orgies they are half mad 
with the poisonous alcohol which they have imbibed. 

" The true explanation of the evils that follow this 
spirit drinking is to be found in the character of the spirit 
itself. In name it is gin or ' genievre,' but it bears little 
or no trace of that origin. What it is, no one outside 
the place of manufacture — which appears to be un- 
known — can correctly declare, but by the smell it would 
seem to be mainly composed of paraffin oil. This bever- 
age is called ' Schnick ' and is the favorite spirit of the 
miners. It is sold for ten centimes ( i penny) for a large 
wine glass, and five centimes {yz penny) for a small, 
and official statistics show that a large majority of the 
miners drink a pint of this stuff every day of their lives, 
while it is computed that there are no fewer than fifty 
thousand who drink a quart. . . . Lest the reader should 
imagine that there is some exaggeration in the figures just 
given, it may be mentioned that the total consumption 

126 



VALENCIENNES 

of spirits per head of the population (of Belgium) ex- 
ceeds fifty quarts." ^ 

This is, of course, written of Belgium, but as this min- 
ing country extends beyond the border into France, as I 
have said, these conditions exist in the neighboring vil- 
lages to the north and east of Valenciennes. It is a relief 
to turn from this terrible picture to the vistas south- 
wards, but it is only just to add that the Belgian Govern- 
ment was doing its best to cleanse this region when the 
war broke out and put a stop to the work. 

How could the people who dwell in this terrible spot 
be other than debased? Conditions were all against 
them. World welfare demands the product of the 
mines; so workers are automatically produced to supply 
it, and thus across this fair land stretches this great black 
belt, like a vast unhealed wound, that extends from the 
western boundaries of Picardy, far beyond the German 
Westphalian province, and digs deep into the bowels of 
the earth, its presence being detected from afar by the 
heavy clouds of pungent, evil smelling black and brown 
smoke of the furnaces, as one approaches, and by 
the great heaps of clay and ashes along the railway 
lines. 

This is the territory coveted by the " war lord." This 
is the road to the Channel, and over this strip by day and 

^ " Belgian Life in Town and Country." Demetrius C. Boulger, p. 76. 
127 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

by night fall the shells of the invaders and defenders 
alike. 

Gone now are the peaceful farmsteads; the quaint old 
villages clustered about the gray towers of the churches 
and monasteries, and the many towered, white walled 
chateaux in the vine clad gardens. The quiet towns and 
villages which we explored in those memorable summer 
days of 1910 are swept from the face of the earth, and 
there are now long level wide roads stretching towards 
and into the horizon, upon which the whole day and 
night, two mighty lines of silent armed men linking to- 
gether heavy wagons and immense shapeless masses of 
heavy guns and tractors, to and from the fighting lines, 
form endless processions. 

The God of Efficiency in destruction now reigns where 
once peaceful thrift was enthroned. 



128 



S0i$$on0 



Sot00on0 



OTH Abelard and Thomas a Becket are identified 
with this venerable fortress town, which was lately 
noted for its haricot-beans, and whose people, 
steeped in trade with Paris, were entirely oblivious to the 
value and beauty of the great cathedral of Notre Dame, 
SS. Gervais and Protais, the equal of which was perhaps 
not in all France. 

Here Abelard was imprisoned in a tower which was 
shown, to those who sought it out, by a lame old priest. 
This tower was surmounted by a small chapel; it con- 
tained nothing, however, which was identified with the 
prisoner. There was also to be seen the ancient Abbey 
of St. Jean des Vignes, in which Thomas a Becket " spent 
nine years." The chief and most interesting part of this 
was the west fagade or " portail," in the style of the thir- 
teenth century, and flanked by a great tower more than 
200 feet high, some say 225 feet, which could be seen from 
a great distance. 

The approach to the town by way of the river bank was 
all that could be desired for picturesqueness, and above 

131 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

the trees and the quaint red tiled roofs of the many gabled 
houses, the great tower of the venerable cathedral lifted 
its heavy gray mass against a fleecy sky. The river was 
full of quaintly fashioned barges, and heavily built boats 
with huge rudders painted with stripes of vivid green 
and red, something like those on the Maas in Holland. 
Here and there a small black steamer belched forth pun- 
gent sooty smoke, and there seemed to be a great deal of 
business going on all about, and an air of prosperity and 
alertness, entirely out of keeping in so venerable a town, 
and which one could not decide to be quite as it should 
be or not. There were modern shops also with windows 
dressed quite a la Paris, and a good hostelry, the Lion 
Rouge, where one was made extraordinarily comfortable 
for a rather small sum. The streets were filled with 
quaint and unusual characters, and now and again we saw 
costumes and some headdresses on the peasant women 
that we had not seen elsewhere. 

An old traveler writing of Soissons said : " At a small 
inn, ' Des Trois Pucelles,' I had a noble salmon, that 
still excites emotions in me when I think of it. I have 
never met with its like since — and there was also ven- 
ison, a whole haunch brought to table, and claret the 
like of which would grace the king's table." 

I looked for " Des Trois Pucelles," but alas, it had 
been pulled down long since. 

132 



SOISSONS 

In this pleasant town, one might have lingered indefi- 
nitely and not lacked entertainment. 

Soissons was called Augusta Suessionum under the 
early Empire. The town has great notoriety among his- 
torians for the great number of sieges it has undergone, 
down to the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, when for 
three days it resisted all attempts to take it. 

Here Pepin le Bref was proclaimed King, and Louis 
le Debonnaire's undutiful sons imprisoned him in the 
Abbey of S. Medard. (829.) 

From the beginning of the eleventh century to the 
middle of the fourteenth century, Soissons was ruled by 
its hereditary counts, but one of these, Louis de Chatil- 
lon, who fell at the battle of Crecy, being imprisoned in 
England, to pay his ransom, sold his countship to En- 
guerrand VII de Coucy in 1367, and with all the rest of 
the appanage of Coucy, it was taken by the crown of 
Louis XII. 

From Csesar to Napoleon its importance from a mili- 
tary point of view has been of the greatest value from 
its splendid position on the banks of the river Aisne. 
For centuries it had to defend itself from continued 
attacks, and in these, although many times successful, 
the stronghold seems to have worn down to its walls and 
towers. It has been called by historians " The City of 
Sieges," and certainly few towns seem to have suffered 

133 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

more. Doubtless its magnificent strategic position on 
the river Aisne has been the reason for the successive 
attacks upon it. It was also a favorite seat of royalty, 
and the capital of a Roman king, Syagrius. Architects 
have pronounced the Cathedral's interior even more 
impressive than that of Rheims, and say that " the 
beautiful proportions of the nave, the simplicity and 
purity of the carved capitals, the splendid glass, 
rendered it one of the most beautiful cathedrals of 
France." ("Cathedral Cities of France," Herbert 
Marshall.) 

It was a splendid example of mixed Romanesque and 
Gothic of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The 
west fagade had three beautiful doors, and a great rose 
window of Gothic design containing glass, the equal of 
which cannot, in the writer's opinion, be found in all 
France. There is a great square tower on the south side, 
terminating in an apse. 

Inside, I saw some tapestry of the fifteenth century 
in good condition, and the sacristan showed an " Adora- 
tion of the Shepherds," which he attributed to Rubens, 
but it was so badly lighted that little of the detail could 
be seen. 

Soissons suffered much at the hands of the Germans 
during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, when it was 
besieged by a force under the command of the Duke of 

134 



SOISSONS 

Mecklenburg, whose soldiers burned and destroyed to 
their hearts' content. 

Even as late as 1910, when I visited the town, the 
sacristan of the Cathedral, in response to a question as 
to his knowledge of the siege, became quite incoherent in 
his denunciations of the enemy. One wonders what has 
become of this cultured and delightful old man, who was 
at once priest and patriot. The south transept is said to 
have been the oldest part of the Cathedral, and here was 
the sacristy (dated the end of the twelfth century) . The 
sacristan showed us the choir (1212) which was sur- 
rounded by eight square, and the apse by five chapels 
of polygonal form. Of these " Fergusson " says, " Noth- 
ing can exceed the justness of the proportions of the 
center and side aisles, both in themselves and to one 
another." 

Kneeling statues of the abbesses, Marie de la Roche- 
foucauld and Henriette de Lorraine d'Elbeuf were 
placed at either side of the west portal. These were 
from the royal abbey of Notre Dame, but the sacristan 
could not, or at any rate did not, give me any other 
information concerning them. In the west end was a 
lovely little chapel, in what is called the " Salle capit- 
ulaire," entrance to which is through an early Gothic 
cloister with graceful vaulting supported by two beau- 
tiful columns. 

135 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Very little remained of the once magnificent Abbey 
of St. Jean des Vignes, except two spires, and a ruined 
fagade, and this is on an eminence near the station. In 
the bombardment of the town during the Franco-Prus- 
sian War these were greatly damaged, but not destroyed. 
Here Thomas a Becket lived in 1170. Some of the re- 
maining buildings were being used as a military prison 
in 1910. 

The beautiful remains of the royal abbey of Notre 
Dame were given over to the authorities as a soldiers' 
barracks, and admission to the premises was refused us 
at the gate by a sentry. 

Behind the Cathedral was the Hotel de Ville, which 
contained the Library and the Museum, neither of which 
was impressive. 

Near the royal abbey of Notre Dame was the old 
Tour Lardier, in which, according to legend, Satan was 
put in chains and confined by St. Vaast. 

Outside the town, to the north, was the ruined church 
of St. Crepin-en-Chaye, where in an abbey built in the 
eleventh century, the Saints Crepinien were burned at 
the stake as martyrs. The abbots of old were certainly 
militant personages, and their castles were strongholds. 
We saw the remains of the abbey of St. Medard, which 
is said to have been founded in 560 by Clotaire I. Here 
the Kings Clotaire and Sigebert were buried, and here 

136 




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m^ 



H ^wr,'X 






A 






I IK' 



© 



SOISSONS 

Childeric III was deposed; Pepin of Heristal received 
his crown, and Louis le Debonnaire imprisoned by his 
heartless sons in 833. Abelard, condemned at the Coun- 
cil of Soissons, was confined here for years. 

The monastery was one of the richest in France, hold- 
ing an appanage of two hundred and fifty villages, in- 
cluding manor houses ancj farmsteads. A warrior abbot 
headed one hundred and fifty armed vassals at the 
Battle of Bouvines. 

Of the seven churches of St. Medard nothing re- 
mained, and the site was occupied by some nondescript 
buildings used as some sort of charitable institution. 

In a crypt under the chapel of the abbey church we were 
shown a large stone coffin, alleged to be that of Clotaire, 
and a small vault contains a cell in which the unfor- 
tunate Louis le Debonnaire languished. There is an in- 
scription supporting this as follows : 

" Helas, je suys bons prins des douleurs 
que j 'endure! 
Mourir mieux me vaudrait: 
la peine me tient dure." 

(Fourteenth Century.) 

Of the genuineness of this inscription some authorities 
are doubtful, but I include it here, nevertheless. 

This whole region is now hidden behind the mask of 
smoke and mystery of the present infernal war. 

137 



7 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Just what ruin lies behind this dropped curtain is un- 
certain. It has been reported that Soissons is in ashes, 
burned and sacked in revenge for the failure of the Ver- 
dun attack. At any rate its inhabitants are confined 
within the limits of the town, and it is understood that 
they are compelled to toil unceasingly for the invaders. 
The vast farmsteads and fields are understood to be 
worked to the utmost by the townspeople in regular 
" gangs " under the eyes of German officers, and that the 
crops have been regularly gathered and distributed under 
the remarkable system for which the Germans are noted. 
Other than these no details have been allowed to creep 
forth from this unfortunate town. That this sanctuary 
of architecture may perchance escape entire destruction 
at the hands of these barbarians is not too much to hope 
for, but that the Cathedral should be spared is inconceiv- 
able, when one remembers the fate of- Rheims, Ypres, 
Louvain, Arras, Malines and Noyon, to mention but a 
few of the incomparable treasures that have vanished 
before their onslaught. 

Soissons' magnificent monuments are now probably 
heaps of calcined stone and charred beams. Those mar- 
vels of painted glass will live henceforth only in the 
memory of those whose good fortune it was to have seen 
and valued them. 

As I write this the Cathedral of Laon is reported to 
138 



SOISSONS 

be a wreck, and is thus added to the list. Words fail 
me. 

These " murdered cities " are glorified forever 
more. . . . 

How one's imagination responds to their very names : 
Verdun, Amiens, Soissons, Rheims, Arras, Valenciennes I 
— and those others of Flanders: Bruges, Ghent, Lou- 
vain, Malines, Lille and Ypres — how full are these of 
grace and fancy. What ring of shield ! — What clang 
of arms ! 

For forty years these towns have enjoyed peace and 
fancied security, while that once great power, with hypo- 
critical words of good will towards all men, even while 
sending delegates to the conferences at The Hague, was 
deliberately planning the destruction of sleeping nations 
whose lands are now invaded ; whose young manhood is 
disappearing in a storm of blood and iron; whose archi- 
tectural treasures are now but smoldering heaps of 
ashes I 

Rheims Cathedral, it is urged, was a landmark; a men- 
ace to the invader; — and this is true. It was a land- 
mark, most certainly, and therefore it was a menace to 
the army of the invader, and was destroyed. This fact 
established, there followed the destruction of the other 
cathedrals, and it may be that before the invader is 
beaten off and pushed back over his own boundary line, 

139 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

those other great works of art still untouched will vanish 
under the rain of fire and shell — and none remain. 

Such a catastrophe is appalling, and it may be realized 
before the war is over, for there is small reason why all 
should not suffer the fate of great St. Martin's at Ypres, 
and Rheims, at the hands of the descendants of the Huns 
and the Allemanni. As it is now six great cathedral 
towns lie inclosed within their iron clad battle lines — 
Soissons, Laon, Senlis, Amiens, Noyon and Rheims; of 
these Rheims, Soissons, Noyon and Senlis have been 
ruined; Amiens remains (so we are told) intact. No 
such assurance is given of Laon, with its wonderful 
square ended choir, the only one in France, and the re- 
markable effigies of oxen, carved in stone, on the tops of 
the twin towers. 



140 



%nm 



%nm 




OYON is really a most beautiful little town asleep 
amid surrounding heavy verdure and, with its 
dominating cathedral towers of Notre Dame, half 
Romanesque, half Gothic, which architects pronounce 
one of the best specimens of the transition period in 
France, is a veritable storehouse of interest." (I find 
this in my notebook, dated July, 19 10.) 

It was named by the Romans " Noviodunam Veroman- 
duorum " and was notable as the residence of the great 
Bishops SS. Medard and Eloi. 

Here Charlemagne was crowned King of the Franks 
in 768. Jacques Sarrazin was born here in 1592, and a 
monument to him by the sculptor Mohlknecht was placed 
on the promenade in 1851. 

Just what the invaders have done to this sleepy, peace- 
ful, little town, can not at this writing be ascertained, 
but it is reported that the great towers of the cathedral 
have been shot away, and that most of the town is a mass 
of shapeless debris. Mr. Ralph Adams Cram, the emi- 
nent architect who has made a study of the cathedral, 

143 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

says in his scholarly and informing book (" The Heart of 
Europe," p. 99) , " The ancient cathedral was burned in 
1131, and the present work begun shortly after, though 
it is hard to believe that much of the existing structure 
antedates the year 1150. The crossing and transepts 
date from about 1 1 70, and the nave ten years later, while 
the west front and towers are of the early part of the next 
century. The certainty and calm assurance of the work 
is remarkable. Paris, which is later, is full of tentative 
experiments, but there is no halting here, rather a severe 
certainty of touch that is perfectly convincing. ... In 
1293 the whole town was destroyed by fire, and the 
cathedral wrecked ; but it was immediately reconstructed, 
however; and at this time the sexpartite gave place to 
the quadripartite vaulting, while the west front with its 
great towers, very noble in their proportions and their 
powerful buttressing, was completed." 

From the earliest days Noyon in common with its 
neighboring towns seems to have had a hard time of it, 
whether in war or peace. The communes constantly 
fought with each other, the ancient burghers of Noyon 
being at daily loggerheads with the established metro-, 
politan clergy. A certain Baudri de Larchainville, a 
native of Artois who had the title of chaplain of the 
bishopric, " a man of wise and reflecting mind " who did 
not share the violent aversion felt by most of his order 

144 



NOYON 

for the existing institutions of communes, realized that 
sooner or later all would have to bow to authority, and 
that it was better to surrender to the wishes of the citizens 
than to shed blood in order to postpone an unavoidable 
revolution. 

Elected Bishop of Noyon in 1098, he found this town 
in the same state of unrest and insurrection as Cambrai. 
The registers of the church contained a host of documents 
entitled " Peace Made between Us and the Burghers of 
Noyon." 

But no reconciliation was lasting. "The truce was 
soon broken either by the clergy or by the citizens, who 
were the more touchy in that they had less security for 
their persons and their property." 

The new bishop believed that the establishment of a 
commune sworn to by both the rival parties might become 
a sort of compact of alliance between them, and he set 
about realizing this noble idea before the word com- 
mune had served at Noyon as the rallying cry of popular 
insurrection, 

" Of his own mere motion he convoked in assembly all 
the inhabitants of the town, clergy, knights, traders, and 
craftsmen. He presented them with a charter which con- 
stituted the body of burghers, an association forever un- 
der magistrates called Jurymen, like those of Cambrai. 
' Whosoever,' said the charter, ' shall desire to enter this 

145 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

commune shall not be able to be received as a member of 
it by a single individual, but only in the presence of the 
Jurymen. The sum of money he shall then give shall be 
employed for the benefit of the town, and not for the 
private advantage of any one whatsoever. If the com- 
mune be outraged, all those who have sworn to it shall 
be bound to march to its defense, and none shall be em- 
powered to remain at home unless he be infirm or sick, 
or so poor that he must needs be himself the watcher of 
his own wife and children lying sick. If any one have 
wounded or slain any one on the territory of the com- 
mune, the Jurymen shall take vengeance therefor.' " 

The other articles guarantee to the members of the 
commune of Noyon the complete ownership of their 
property, and the right of not being handed over to jus- 
tice save before their own municipal magistrates. The 
bishop first swore to this charter, and the inhabitants of 
every condition took the same oath after him. In virtue 
of his pontifical authority he pronounced the anathema, 
and all the curses of the Old and New Testament, against 
whoever should in time to come try to dissolve the com- 
mune or infringe its regulations. Furthermore, in order 
to give this new pact a stronger warranty, Baudri re- 
quested the King of France, Louis the Fat, to corroborate 
it, as they used to say at the time, by his approbation and 
by the great seal of the Crown. The King consented to 

146 



NOYON 

this request of the bishop, and that was all the part taken 
by Louis the Fat in the establishment of the Commune of 
Noyon. 

The King's Charter is not preserved but, under the 
date of 1108, there is extant one of the bishop's own, 
which may serve to substantiate the account given. 
" Baudri, by the grace of God, bishop of Noyon, to all 
those who do persevere and go on in the faith : 

" Most dear brethren, we learn by the example and 
words of the holy Fathers, that all good things ought to 
be committed to writing for fear lest hereafter they come 
to be forgotten. 

" Know then all Christians present and to come, that I 
have formed at Noyon a commune, constituted by the 
council and in an assembly of clergy, knights and burg- 
hers; that I have confirmed it by oath, by pontifical au- 
thority and by the bond of anathema, and that I have 
prevailed upon our lord King Louis to grant this com- 
mune and corroborate it with the King's Seal. This es- 
tablishment formed by me, sworn to by a great number 
of persons, and granted by the King, let none be so bold 
as to destroy or alter; I give warning thereof, on behalf 
of God and myself, and I forbid it in the name of Pon- 
tifical Authority. 

" Whosoever shall transgress and violate the present 
law, be subjected to excommunication; and whosoever, 

147 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

on the contrary, shall faithfully keep it, be preserved 
forever amongst those who dwell in the house of the 
Lord." 

Thus was formed the Commune of Noyon in the year 
of our Lord 1108. 

At the end of the eleventh century the town had be- 
come one of the most important in the kingdom, filled 
with rich and industrious inhabitants; thither came, as to 
Laon, the neighboring people for provisions or diversion; 
and such concourse led to many disturbances. Thierry 
says, "The nobles and their servitors, sword in hand, 
committed robbery upon the burghers ; the streets of the 
town were not safe by night or even by day, and none 
could go out without running a risk of being stopped and 
robbed or killed." " Let me give as example," says Gui- 
bert of Nogent, " a single fact, which had it taken place 
amongst the Barbarians or Scythians, would assuredly 
have been considered the height of wickedness, in the 
judgment even of those who recognize no law. On Sat- 
urday the inhabitants of the country places used to leave 
their fields, and come from all sides to get provisions at 
the market. The townsfolk used then to go round the 
place carrying in baskets or bowls or otherwise, samples 
of vegetables or grain or any other article, as if they 
wished to sell. They would offer them to the first peas- 
ant who was in search of such things to buy; he would 

148 



NOYON 

promise to pay the price agreed upon; then the seller 
would say to the buyer, ' Come with me to my house to 
see and examine the whole of the articles I am selling 
you.' The other would go ; and then when they came to 
the bin containing the goods, the honest seller would take 
off and hold up the lid, saying to the buyer, ' Step hither 
and put your head or arms into the bin to make quite sure 
that it is exactly the same goods as I showed you outside.' 
And then when the other unsuspecting, jumping on to 
the edge of the bin, remained leaning on his belly, with 
his head and shoulders hanging down, the worthy seller, 
who kept in the rear, would hoist up the thoughtless rus- 
tic by the feet, push him suddenly into the bin, and clap- 
ping down the lid as he fell, keep him shut up in this 
safe prison until he bought himself out." 

This story, told of the Commune of Laon, formed in 
imitation of that at Noyon, was typical of all such com- 
munities. Laon elected one Gaudri, a Norman by birth, 
referendary of Henry I, King of England, and one of 
those churchmen who according to Thierry's expression, 
" had gone in the train of William the Bastard to seek 
their fortunes amongst the English by seizing the prop- 
erty of the vanquished." Of scarcely edifying life, he 
had the tastes and habits of a soldier; was hasty and arro- 
gant; a fighter and also something of a glutton. He met 
at Langres Pope Pascal II, come to France to keep the 

149 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

festival of Christmas at the Abbey of Cluny. The Pope 
had heard of his reputation, for afterwards he asked the 
ecclesiastics who accompanied Gaudri, " why they had 
chosen a man unknown to them." " The question being 
asked in Latin, none of the priests knew even the rudi- 
ments of the tongue, so they could not answer," (says 
Guibert de Nogent, who records the matter) . 

Gaudri certainly was scantily fitted for the bishopric, 
as the town soon discovered. " Scarcely had he been in- 
stalled when he committed strange outrages. He had a 
man's eyes put out on suspicion of connivance with his 
enemies; and he tolerated the murder of another in the 
metropolitan church. In imitation of rich crusaders on 
their return from the East, he kept a black slave, whom 
he employed upon his deeds of vengeance. The burghers 
began to be disquieted and to wax wroth. So a com- 
mune was resolved upon like that at Noyon, and was 
speedily set up and proclaimed, to the manifest wrath 
of Gaudri, who for days abstained from entering the 
town. But the burghers, craftily acting upon his cupid- 
ity and avariciousness, ' offered him so large a sum of 
money as to appease the tempest of his words,' so he 
accepted the commune and swore to respect it. 

" For the space of three years all went well, and the 
burghers were happy and proud of the liberty they en- 
joyed, but when in 1112 the Bishop had spent the money 

150 



NOYON 

thus received, he meditated over and keenly regretted 
the power thus bartered away, and resolved to return the 
townspeople to the old condition of serfdom. Consult- 
ing with King Louis the Fat, he won his consent to the 
plan he had in mind, by promising him untold sums of 
money." 

The Charter, sealed with the King's Seal, was an- 
nulled; and on the part of the King and the Bishop an 
order was issued to all the magistrates of the commune 
to cease from their functions, to give up the seal and the 
banner of the town, to ring no longer the belfry chimes 
which rang out the opening and closing of their audi- 
ences. 

But at this proclamation, so violent was the uproar in 
the town, that the King, who had hitherto lodged in a 
private hotel, thought it prudent to leave, and go to 
pass the night in the Episcopal Palace, which was sur- 
rounded by high walls. Not content with this precau- 
tion, and probably a little ashamed of what he had done, 
he left the next morning at daybreak with all his train, 
without waiting for the celebration of the festival of 
Easter for which he had undertaken the journey. Such 
troubles and disorders marked the rise and fall of all the 
communes. Those who are interested in such history of 
the struggles of the people for liberty of person and 
action may read further the accounts of the communes in 

151 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Guizot's admirable History of France, from which these 
are extracts. Suffice it to say here that all the towns of 
Cambrai, Beauvais, Amiens, Soissons, Rheims and sev- 
eral others displayed at this period a vast deal of energy 
and perseverance in bringing their lords to recognize the 
most natural and the most necessary rights of every hu- 
man creature and community. 

From this brief account some idea may be had of the 
ancient conditions. 

Let us now turn to the terrible state of affairs under 
which the unfortunate inhabitants of these quaint towns 
of Northern France are suffering. In the book of Octave 
Beauchamp, " Le Tour de France aux Cites Meurtries," 
is the following letter (which I translate roughly) of 
Leonie Godfroy, a nurse, known as " Schwester " God- 
froy: 

" During the night of the 28th to the 29th of August, 
the Mayor of Noyon advised the people, that as the situ- 
ation had become critical because of the approach of the 
German army, all those who could do so should leave the 
town to escape the terrors of the invasion. 

" In one of my school books, I remember a picture 
which, when I first saw it, filled me with horror. It rep- 
resented the Exodus of the Gauls at the approach of the 
Huns, and was drawn, I think, by Gustav Dore, — the 
women half naked, dragged away by the savage soldiers ; 

152 




.& 



NOYON 

the terrified and crying children ; the old men and women 
hurrying away, some empty-handed, others laden with all 
manner of objects which at any other time, or under 
different conditions would have seemed ridiculous, but 
which coupled with their terror, became pathetic. This 
picture now was enacted by my unfortunate fellow 
townspeople in their attempt to escape from the dangers 
of the bombardment and acts of the invaders. Crowds 
were running towards the railway depot, not realizing 
that the cars were already crowded to suffocation with 
half fainting women and terrified children. Others sat 
beside the ways, wailing and wringing their hands ; here 
and there sat groups silent, staring as if they had lost 
their senses I 

" The forests outside the town were filled with hiding, 
terrified women, and here the Uhlans gathered on the 
morning of the 30th, after the invasion and occupation 
of Noyon. During this flight from town many women 
became mothers by the roadside, and lay there helpless 
until attended to by the German Ambulance Corps. The 
Germans arrived on the 30th of August. They entered 
Noyon after having fired three great shells into the city, 
which met with no response. The silence of death was 
over the town, save for the howling here and there of 
an abandoned dog, shut indoors. 

"We, the staff at the hospital, gathered about the 
153 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

president of our committee, with clasped hands, vowed 
solemnly that come what would, we should remain at our 
post, to do our duty to the end. With us stayed some 
courageous young women nurses, and several of the at- 
tendants. 

" Some hours before we had received at the hospital 
some dozen or so wounded English soldiers from the 
front. We were in the midst of our work with these, 
when there came the sound of violent banging on the 
front door. Two Uhlans burst in past the attendant and 
entered the court. 

" Catching sight of us ranged about the cot of a 
wounded soldier, these pushed us aside, examined the 
condition of the wounded men in the room and without 
saying one word to any of us, hurriedly took their de- 
parture. 

" From this instant our wounded were prisoners of war, 
and must resign themselves to all the circumstances of 
such state. The smallest resistance (of course there 
could be no resistance whatever on their part, wounded 
unto death as they were) would be visited upon us all; 
we would be shot in groups, and the hospital burned. 
Shortly after this a ' section ' (so-called) entered the hos- 
pital without any formality, pistols in hand. The offi- 
cers at once commandeered the autos in the court, and de- 
manded our entire supply of gasolene. 

154 



NOYON 

" Behind these advance soldiers, the German troops be- 
gan to defile past the windows in plain sight. Then 
came weary men covered with dust and grime of the 
march, demanding food and drink. Some of these threw 
themselves upon the cots beside the lesser wounded, and 
seemed instantly to fall asleep. 

" We were soon unable to reply satisfactorily to the 
questions of the officers. They asked us, Frenchmen, 
how we found the French; if the English were numerous; 
if they had burned the bridges. We answered as well as 
we could, and as briefly as possible without giving them 
offense. The rooms being full, we placed foot tubs in 
the court, and attended to them. For the most part they 
impressed us filled with a great anxiety, even fear. . . ." 

(Here follow allegations that are untranslatable — 
ignoble — they are omitted.) 

" We saw from the windows regiments of men in gray 
passing in great disorder, the men covered with dust and 
grime, and not always keeping step. Great army wag- 
ons passed, the drivers of which slept nodding on the 
seats. Some we saw fall as the wagons lurched. The 
horses seemed spent, and only kept going because of 
heavy blows and prods from bayonets. 

" This army of invasion resembles more an army in 
retreat. Imagine the state of affairs in this little city of 
Noyon, once so happy and peaceful, now resounding with 

155 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

the noise of the great guns of the Germans both day and 
night — nights of terror ! 

" All the grocery shops are pillaged and gutted, so 
also the pharmacies and the bazaars. 

" Many of the houses are turned into something like 
shops for the barter of objects stolen by the soldiers in the 
town. In these furniture, silver, objects of art and linen 
are exchanged and packed up to be sent to Germany. 
The inhabitants are commanded to deposit with the 
' Kommandantur ' not only all firearms, but also all 
photographic cameras and telephone instruments in their 
possession. All pigeons in the town have been killed to 
prevent their being employed as messengers by the peo- 
ple. In occupying Noyon, the Germans have attempted 
to strip the place thoroughly of everything of value. 
Their hospital ambulances, called ' lazarets,' are used to 
gather in the proceeds of their thefts. 

" There is one at the theater, and others in the most 
important establishments. Here all that is collected by 
the soldiers each day is taken. The wine cellars have 
been emptied, it is said, and large quantities shipped to 
Germany, It has for days now been impossible for us 
to get a bottle of wine for our patients. 

" In the great bombardment now going on of Noyon 
by the French endeavoring to drive out the enemy, the 
faubourgs have suffered greatly; that of d' Amiens, the 

156' 








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NOYON 

boulevards and the Rue d'Oroire particularly. The gas 
works and the depot are both destroyed, as well as the 
military casernes. I have heard the officers say how much 
they admire the French cannon, and the artillery corps. 
They frequently repeat in our hearing the ancient 
' blague' — the Germans and the French should be 
friends — they will be sooner or later — they should 
unite for the good of humanity and for the downfall of 
England ! — From officer to soldier this is the shibbo- 
leth. It does not ring true! Now and then there are 
visits from princes and dignitaries, accompanied by tre- 
mendous excitement and troops blazing with color, bands 
of music, and all intended to impress and encourage the 
dusty, dirty troops of soldiers who are continually com- 
ing from and going to the front, and lend a factitious ani- 
mation to the town. Each day the German ' Etat Ma- 
jor ' sends out the ' communiques,' which are placarded 
all over town. The people of Noyon who remain pay 
little attention to them. 

" They do, however, study and commit to memory the 
rules of circulation. For instance, it is dangerous for one 
to pass twice on any given day in the same street; to 
stand talking with a friend without plausible reason, 
or to go to the railway station or walk upon a public 
promenade without permission. In the evening all are 
ordered to be in the house by four o'clock. The town is 

157 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

plunged in inky darkness at night, for the gas house and 
works are destroyed. Those who must have light use 
candles, but the price of these has risen beyond all belief. 
All lights at night are carefully hidden by blinds and 
heavy curtains, for at the least ray of light seen by the 
German patrol, suspicion is cast upon the inmates, and a 
' crime ' of this sort invariably brings arrest and a night 
in confinement under guard at the ' post ' or even the risk 
of being sent to Germany. I have seen young and old, 
a priest and a sacristan thus sent away. 

" Often even a gesture misunderstood by a patrol re- 
sults in the banishment of the offender over the border 
into Germany. 

" The Mayor of Noyon has carried on the difficult tasks 
entrusted to him with great skill and remarkable courage. 
Many times his administrations have placed him in grave 
danger, but so far he has not suffered for his demands for 
justice towards his unfortunate fellow townsmen. 

" Every Sunday mass is celebrated in the untouched 
part of the Cathedral. A Protestant service also is given 
following it. The troops attend in two detachments, 
and the sight of these two bodies at once in the Cathe- 
dral is sufficiently curious, and certainly most unus- 
ual. 

" In the afternoon the officers arrange a sort of concert, 
at which artists who are unlucky enough to be here are 

158 



NOYON 

expected to perform. These are usually melancholy af- 
fairs. 

" When the town was first occupied by the Germans, 
in September, 1914, it was to the Cathedral that they sent 
their prisoners for confinement. The inhabitants were 
ordered to bring provisions for them, but were not al- 
lowed access to them. It was necessary to intrust the 
food they brought to the sentinels, and no one knows 
whether the food reached the poor prisoners or not. 

" As for the Cathedral, I can say truly that the two 
great towers were constantly used by the German soldiers 
as posts of observation. Our glorious dead have been 
laid at rest at the foot of an immense cross erected out- 
side the town. 

" The Germans have prepared for their dead a large 
' fosse ' in the middle of a field. An armed picket guard 
assists at the interments of both French and Germans, at 
which military honors are scrupulously observed and 
given. These ceremonies, often under the heavy fire of 
the great guns of the French, have made an impression 
upon me that I shall never forget. 

" The morning of the 17th of October, as I was en- 
gaged in renewing the dressing of a lieutenant's wounds, 
two German policemen brusquely entered, and called out 
' Schwester Godf roy I ' 

" Hearing my name I turned and prepared to follow 
159 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

the two men, but these rough men, deeming my move- 
ments not quick enough, seized me by the arms and 
pushed me towards the stairs leading to my chamber. In 
the hallway I perceived my companions, each grasped by 
a ' gendarme.' An officer and five men pushed me with 
them into my chamber and locked the door; then these 
men, with a brutality impossible here to describe, ran- 
sacked my bed, ripped open the mattress and pillows, 
after which they turned the contents of my valise out on 
the floor, threw my clothing about; even breaking off the 
legs of my ' table de nuit,' to see if I had not letters or 
papers hidden therein. I kept my temper, remaining 
quiet. 

" Seeing me so calm seemed to render them furious at 
finding nothing to incriminate me. My trunk in a corner 
of the room attracted their attention, and they roughly 
ordered me to open it. I made them understand that 
there was no key to it. One of them wrenched off the 
lid with his saber, to discover that the trunk was empty. 
They then questioned me minutely, after eyeing sus- 
piciously several German newspapers lying on the table, 

" ' You speak German, and you refuse to admit it; but 
do not mistake — you and the others — we know you to 
be Belgians, and if you can get to Paris, it is not for the 
purpose of caring for the wounded . . .' 

" This seemed so foolish to me that I refused to answer. 
160 



NOYON 

For at least ten minutes they bent over my poor papers, 
my little souvenirs, and a piece of paper money which 
they examined minutely, thinking to find state secrets, 
I suppose. 

" Afterwards, when they returned my money, they kept 
five or six letters which I had preserved and kept by me 
as dear relics, precious letters from my mother and sis- 
ters . . . Their gross impoliteness made no outward im- 
pression upon me, but the instant their attention was at- 
tracted from me, and they turned their heads in another 
direction, I threw adroitly in a corner of my valise, which 
remained open beside me, a small packet which I carried 
in the waist of my dress. In this I had written a sort of 
diary of my experiences since the beginning of the war, 
together with accounts given me by wounded Frenchmen 
of their personal impressions of the combats in which they 
had been wounded ; a few sketches and such matters, all 
innocent of any military value, but which, if found upon 
me, would have but one quick result ... I pushed the 
valise farther under the table with a stealthy movement 
of my foot. The men then left the room, shutting the 
door behind them. Almost instantly two horrible 
' Schwestern ' entered without knocking, and proceeded 
to undress me, examining even the lining of my clothes 
for concealed papers — Of course they found none. 
My companions suffered the same indignities at the hands 

161 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

of these horrible creatures, who seemed to us more brutes 
than women. When they had gone, and I was sure that 
no one observed, I again concealed the packet of papers 
in the waist of my dress as before." 

Of her further adventures I can give no more here. 
She was taken away from Noyon shortly after the ex- 
perience just related and sent to a detention camp of 
Holzminden in Germany with her companion nurses. 
Her experiences there were remarkable, and after serving 
with faithfulness until the following April, she was sent 
to Rastadt, the fortress, from which she obtained per- 
mission to leave, and return to Noyon by way of Swit- 
zerland. She finishes by writing : " Now, after more 
than a year has passed, I am once more in our dear little 
cottage, among those whom I had thought and feared 
never to see again. Alas — the war continues. Cer- 
tainly I dreamed that war was very different from what 
I found it to be, and if my health returns to me, as I hope, 
I shall resume my work. I have seen the soldiers in the 
midst of battle at the front; I have attended them in the 
ambulances with undreamed of wounds; I have listened 
to and received their agonized confidences, and attended 
them to the end. They are all heroes to me ... I have 
known them in captivity, famished for food, insulted, 
brutalized by their captors. Our brave boys ! 

" Their courage, the grandeur of their souls, their in- 
162 



:^ *#:l^ 






mi 



^'J 








'^-'. 



NOYON 

difference to pain, in the face of duty, imparts to me some- 
thing of their courage which inspires me. 

" A country defended by such an army has no right to 
doubt final victory. 

" (Signed) Leonie Godfroy." 

One revolts at these terrible pictures and accounts of 
the ravages of war in this former peaceful town, now so 
ravaged by the German army. Its picturesque town hall 
with the emblazoned coat of arms below the turret, 
where those flocks of white pigeons paraded the coping, 
cooing in the sunshine — now a mass of blackened ruin, 
behind a vast hole in the ground in what was once the 
town square, marking where one of the great shells fell 
and burst; and the shattered towers of the gray old Cathe- 
dral, the roof of which is gone, leaving the debris filled 
interior open to the rainy gray cloudy sky. Where now 
are the throngs of happy, apparently care-free peasants 
who thronged the "place" before the flag-hung old Town 
Hall that morning we last saw it in September, 
1910? ... 

The Patron Saints' day — a day dear to the peasants. 
This festival which takes place but once a year, is an 
event in the peasant's life. On this day he invites his 
friends and his relatives to his house, each in turn. In 
such communities throughout France, where the church 

163 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

still preserves authority, the priest earnestly endeavors 
to protect the peasants from the wiles and temptations 
of sin — this is one of the few days when dancing is al- 
lowed. Thus in each section of the country or province 
the occasion is given a different name, although the cir- 
cumstances of its celebration do not differ greatly. 

In the North of France the day is known under the 
name of " La Dricasse," in the East as " La Rapport," 
in Savoy as the " Vogue "; in Touraine as the " Assem- 
blee"; as the "Ballade" in Poitou; as the " Frairie " 
in Angoumois; and as the " Pardon " in Brittany. 

The day before the fete, long lines of wagons with 
peddlers and mountebanks arrived in the " place " and 
each took up its station upon a position marked out with 
white stones, according to whatever license has been al- 
lotted to the showman at the Town Hall. There was 
no disorder whatever, no dispute with the Sergeant de 
Ville, whose word is law. The wagons were unpacked 
in the light of flaring naphtha torches under the excited 
eyes of the gamins who formed a wondering, pushing ring 
about the workmen until driven away by the police. 

One may believe that during that night the peasants 
slept lightly for thinking of the joys of the feasting and 
dancing of the morrow. At dawn of day the chimes in 
the cathedral awakened them. Soon they thronged the 
streets, the men dressed in new blouses, or treasured wed- 

164 



NOYON 

ding coats, the girls all in unaccustomed finery of stiff 
skirts and Sunday headdress. 

All go to mass on a day of this sort as a sacred duty. 
The old Cathedral was crowded to the doors with the 
people; sitting and standing. Late comers fared badly 
and remained at the porch. Even there, they knelt 
piously at their devotions. 

But it seemed to us that the whole congregation was 
nervously excited and impatient to be gone. We could 
not hear the words of the priest's sermon, but undoubt- 
edly he counseled them to keep sober and to beware of 
the attractiveness of sin. 

When the Amen was chanted how quickly the peasants 
left the old church! How they hastened to the square, 
where already flags were flying all about, and where the 
mountebanks were shouting out the attractions of their 
tented shows ; where the booths displayed their attractive 
collections of brassy jewelry; and the firemen were gath- 
ered bravely in their brazen horsehair-plumed helmets, 
all ranged about the absurd diminutive fire pump, two 
feet in height and mounted on four twelve-inch scarlet 
wheels. How innocent, even pathetically ludicrous it 
seemed, yet what a charm it all had for us. 

Everything was calculated to attract and excite the 
desires of these simple people, who know nothing of the 
luxuries to which free born Americans are so accustomed. 

165 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Here in the open square sharp-eyed Semitic merchants 
from Paris unpacked their paniers and heavy cases of 
cheap clothing, gaudy ribbons and flimsy varnished fur- 
niture, over which the women and girls crowded and 
pushed excitedly, fingering their lean purses, containing 
their hard earned " francs," and eagerly bargaining for 
the usually worthless articles. The " barkers " called 
out loudly the merits of the shows, before which, on 
elevated board platforms, hard faced girls in tights and 
motley clad buffoons paraded. Tinsel and glitter never 
failed to attract the peasant, and the clashing cymbal and 
the loudly beaten drum gives him delight. 

Here, before the old Town Hall, built three centuries 
ago, a modern moving picture tent was set up, with a 
large sign over it reading thus : " Cinema — Ameri- 
cain. Phonograph — Edison. Entree f. 1.50" — but 
the peasants did not yet know what this meant and they 
seemed dubious about it. The fortune teller, however, 
was highly successful, and his long green canvas covered 
wagon was surrounded by an eager waiting crowd of 
women ; the men did not seem to care for it. 

An itinerant quack dentist, in a magnificently var- 
nished open carriage hung with flags and diplomas from 
the " Crowned Heads of Europe," was extracting " an 
aching tooth," from the mouth of a frightened boy, who 
leaped away from the carriage, as the quack held up the 

166 



NOYON 

offending tooth in a glittering forceps before the aston- 
ished eyes of the peasants. Spitting out blood, the boy, 
holding his jaw in his hands, and surrounded by other 
admiring " gamins," went away behind the back of a 
cart; following him I was just in time to see him display 
a bright new one franc piece to the others who were 
grouped about him. They all jumped away at my ap- 
proach. 

" Did your teeth ache badly? " I asked him. 

" No, M'sieur, not at all, but he offered me one good 
silver franc for it, and Mere de Dieu, what would you? 
— a franc is a franc — and I have plenty of teeth left I " 

In the gorgeous carriage stood the loud mouthed 
" quack " flourishing the teeth in the silver plated forceps, 
and calling for " amateurs " to come forward and have 
their teeth out. 

There were booths filled with sweets about which the 
children lingered most longingly, and others where " frit- 
ters " were cooked in evil smelling grease, which were 
eagerly bought and consumed in large quantities by the 
young fellows and their girls. 

The various small inns and drinking-places were filled 
to suffocation the whole day long. From the open win- 
dows and doors came the sounds of loud singing, mingled 
with the raucous tones of barrel organs, and the jingling 
of glasses, and bottles. There was much shouting and 

167 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

laughing on the part of the peasants, who on ordinary 
occasions are serious enough, if not morose. That night 
the festival was in full swing. The two large " merry- 
go-rounds " with their gaudily painted wooden lions, 
tigers, and horses, were whirling about in blazing circles 
laden with excited boys and screaming girls, to the groan- 
ing strains of large barrel organs, filling the air with 
noise. These merry-go-rounds were ornamented thickly 
with squares and diamonds of mirror glass, and these 
made a magnificent whirling show in the square. There 
was, too, the town orchestra vainly endeavoring to play 
the popular music, and finally there were some sputter- 
ing fireworks, followed by a speech by the Mayor, and 
a " retraite aux Flambeaux," consisting of a dozen fire- 
men with oil lamps, which, preceded by a drum corps, 
made the round of the adjacent streets. 

After seeing this we returned to our little Hotel du 
Nord, for it was near to midnight, but all night long the 
festivities went on in the square, and in the small danc- 
ing halls. 

We thought it all most quaint, even somewhat pa- 
thetic then. 

But the act of the aggressor which has swept away this 
pretty little town, leaving nothing but blackened, fire- 
eaten walls, and driving a simple innocent people into 
exile is nothing short of a crime against humanity. 

1.68 



NOYON 

Of the ruin wrought in the neighborhood of Noyon and 
Lassigny by the Teutons before they abandoned this part 
of their line a correspondent {Le Matin, Paris) states 
that it is difficult to speak without entering into details 
of the most sordid character. 

What were once charming streets in Lassigny are now 
covered with masses of rubbish discarded by the Ger- 
mans when they plundered the city. The beautiful old 
fifteenth century church, which was the Mecca for thou- 
sands of sightseers in times before the war, has been 
reduced to a heap of stones. Along the road from 
Lassigny to Noyon the spectacle of ruin is the same. 
Suzoy and many small villages were too far from the 
French lines to be damaged by the heavy artillery fire, 
but they bear, nevertheless, many traces of the barbarian 
rage. All furniture that could not be carried off by the 
Germans was battered and broken to prevent its use even 
for firewood. 

Much of it was piled in heaps along the road and 
burned to ashes. In some parts of the road the French 
found carts loaded with household furniture which the 
Germans in their haste were unable to move or burn. 
Farm implements, curtains, carpets and most of the 
household goods of the villages were smashed and in 
some cases covered with offal. 

At Noyon the houses have suffered comparatively little 
169 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

damage. The most noticeable wreckage was done in the 
vicinity of the bridges which had been blown up to pre- 
vent and delay pursuit. At some places the Germans 
exploded bombs and mines in the middle of the roadway, 
causing immense holes and ridges. The Cathedral is 
ruined; likewise the notable and remarkable old Town 
Hall, but the quaint old fountain in the Square has by 
some good fortune escaped damage. In March, 1917, 
on their departure from Noyon, the Germans delegated 
a staff of officers to visit the different banks in the town. 

Several prominent citizens were brought along to 
accelerate the work of pillage, and the officers compelled 
the opening of all safes. Even the minute objects whose 
chief value lay in sentimental attachment were taken by 
the Germans. 

Securities, jewelry and silver in the banks, amounting 
to $500,000 approximately, were taken before the town 
was evacuated. 

M. Poiret, mayor of the village of Pimpres, who was 
separated from his family two years ago, and compelled 
to remain at Noyon, says of his treatment by the Ger- 
mans : " The humiliations we had to put up with are 
indescribable. During the last few weeks our physical 
discomforts became unbearable. There was neither 
meat, nor coal, nor vegetables, nor fat. In addition 
the Germans cut all the mains, so that we had no gas. 

170 



NOYON 

They were constantly requisitioning what little we had. 
They took even the bells from the ruins of the Cathedral, 
and the old Town Hall, and last week the great organ 
in the church (Sainte Chapelle of the old Bishop's 
Palace) was removed. 

" We were joyous when we heard that the Germans 
were preparing to leave on Friday night. We were told 
to remain indoors on penalty of being shot if we stirred 
outdoors. 

" During the night the Germans blew up mines in the 
streets and dammed up the river Verse so as to flood the 
town. The evacuation began the following night 
(Saturday) and was finished by daybreak. 

" On Sunday at 1 1 o'clock the sight of French cavalry 
coming up the street toward my house was the most 
' gorgeous ' spectacle I have seen for more than two 
years." 

During the nights of March 16 and 17, two companies 
of German infantry arrived at the village of Ham, where 
there was a famous chateau (tenth century) of the 
Counts of Vermandois and later of the family of Coucy. 
The infantry remained until the following day, pillaging 
systematically, under orders of their officers, everything 
in the neighborhood. 

The ancient Chateau of Coucy furnished them with 
considerable valuable booty, and here four officers burned 

171 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

and broke up all the furniture they could not carry away. 
The chateau was in the form of a rectangle flanked at 
each corner by a round tower, and with great square 
towers on the north and east. The round tower at the 
northeast angle which rose from the canal was the work 
of Louis de Luxembourg in 1490, and was called the 
" Tour du Connetable," and bore above the portal the 
motto of its founder, " Mon Myeul." Its walls were of 
tremendous thickness and strength. The whole lower 
story was an immense hall of hexagonal form, and it had 
a number of strange pits, called furnaces, which were to 
be used to blow up the castle in case of capture. In this 
chateau many notable personages had been confined; for 
instance, Jeanne d'Arc; Conde, the Huguenot leader; 
Jacques Cassard of Nantes; and Prince Napoleon, after 
his failure and capture at Boulogne in 1840. This great 
and historical chateau they wantonly destroyed; after 
sacking it they blew it up with cases of explosives placed 
in the walls. 

The officers took away from their sleeping quarters in 
the town all chairs, bed clothing and even the smallest 
toilet articles. Some of the soldiers excused their acts to 
the townspeople by informing them that all this was 
done " by order of the Emperor." 

General von Fleck, commanding officer of the army 
corps stationed at Ham, took everything in the house he 

172 



NOYON 

occupied from the cellar to the roof, using a wagon to 
carry away the objects. " After the wagon had gone with 
the last chair in the house, the general found himself in 
need of one on which to write a letter, so an orderly was 
dispatched to get one at the Mairie." 



173 



Mttm 



Ttimi 



^■MHE little town of Meaux on the banks of the 
■jU Marne is only thirty miles or so from Paris, and 
^■^ was remarkable for its old mills on the bridge over 
the river bed, behind the Hotel de Ville, as well as for 
the beautiful cathedral of St. Etienne. The beauties of 
the town could best be appreciated from the shady walk 
along the river side. Here were great shade trees over- 
hanging the roadway, through the branches of which one 
got glimpses of the cream colored tower of the old cathe- 
dral, above the red tiled roofs of the town, all against a 
summer sky of pale blue. 

Upon reaching the town, there were the two bridges 
over the Marne, both of them covered with some old mills 
with high wooden walls and quaint buttresses; almost 
theatrical and unbelievable in these practical days. 

The town had about twelve or thirteen thousand in- 
habitants, and was busied with a trade in grain. Some 
rather handsome boulevards seemed entirely out of key 
with the rest of the town, but there were the remains of 
an ancient chateau of the Counts of Flanders, built dur- 

177 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

ing the thirteenth, or maybe the twelfth century, accounts 
differ, which seemed much more in keeping with the 
place, and a most delightful little hotel called the 
" Trois Rois" from which it was hard to get away, so 
ideal were its comforts, and so moderate its charges. 

Meaux, says history, was the refuge of the noble ladies 
of France in the Jacquerie revolts of the thirteenth cen- 
tury, when the horrors of the rebel persecutions at 
Beauvais commenced. Once having reached the shelter 
of its walls, they dared not leave, and remained prisoners 
until the terror ended. Here remained the Duchesses of 
Orleans and Normandy among others no less famous and 
prominent, so that intrepid warrior, the Captal de Buch, 
accompanied by the Earl of Foix, gathered together a 
force of armed men for their rescue. 

All the roads leading to the town, from Paris, from 
Beauvoisie, from Valois, were filled with bands of peas- 
antry, all bound for the town, which they had heard con- 
tained great treasure. Arriving at Meaux, de Buch and 
Foix were welcomed with great joy, for the peasants had 
begun to pillage wherever they could. Then ensued a 
great slaughter in which the marauding peasants were 
rounded up and killed like rats by the armed warriors. 
" They flung them in great heaps into the river. In 
short, they killed upwards of seven thousand; not one 
would have escaped if they had chosen to pursue them." 

178 



MEAUX 

Meaux, too, is famous for a great siege during the wars 
of Henry V, when he camped before the town walls in 
1421. Monstrelet says, "The King of England was 
indefatigable in the siege of Meaux, and having de- 
stroyed many parts of the walls of the market place, he 
summoned the garrison to surrender themselves to the 
King of France and himself, or he would storm the place. 
To this summons they replied that it was not yet time to 
surrender, on which the King ordered the place to be 
stormed. The assault continued for seven or eight hours, 
in the most bloody manner; nevertheless, the besieged 
made a most obstinate defense, in spite of the great num- 
bers that were attacking them. Their lances had been 
almost all broken, but in their stead they made use of 
spits, and fought back with such courage that the English 
were driven back from the ditches, which encouraged 
them much." 

Eventually, however, not receiving help from the 
Dauphin, upon which they had counted, they capitulated 
to Henry's soldiers. 

Under the treaty which followed, they agreed : " On 
the 1 ith day May, the market place, and all Meaux was 
to be surrendered into the hands of the Kings of France 
and England." 

As a warning to the people against further insurrection 
the leader, one Vauras, " the bastard," who had in his ca- 

179 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

reer killed many English and Burgundians, was hanged, 
drawn, and quartered before the walls of the town. 

After this, King Henry, who was very proud of his 
victory, entered the town in great pomp and splendor, 
remaining for some days with his princes and attendants, 
and left after giving orders that the town walls should be 
rebuilt and all other damages repaired. 

The ancient building called the " Eveche " near the 
cathedral was the residence of Bossuet, the famous 
preacher, in 1681. He was nicknamed the " Aigle de 
Meaux," and renowned for his eloquence, even at a time 
when France was rich in such genius. Bossuet stood head 
and shoulders even above such contemporaries as Mas- 
silon and Bourdaloue, Arnauld, Fleury, and Fenelon. 
It was really he who established the privileges and liberty 
of the Gallican church. 

Here in the little green garden behind the gray walls 
of the " Eveche," he sat, mused, and wrote his essays 
upon the encroachments of Papacy, which destroyed the 
remnants of Pope Innocent's power in France. 

In his later years he remained in seclusion here at 
Meaux, leading the life of a simple parish priest, and here 
he died " full of honors and beloved by all," and was 
buried in the church in 1704. A handsome statue by 
Ruxtiel was erected in his honor on the south side of the 
choir. 

180 







ff^ 



? ' - i^ /I >■ § 



^%^^IS^ 







MEAUX 

Here, too, was a fine kneeling statue of Philip of Cas- 
tile, dated 1627. 

But the great point of attraction for the stranger at 
Meaux was the bridge and the old timbered mills which 
overhung it, and the curious greeny water of the river 
Marne. 

I could not ascertain what gave the water its green 
color; It did not seem natural, yet there were apparently 
no dye works near at hand — none of the inhabitants 
whom I questioned seemed able to answer my question; 
they had never noticed it, they said. 

The morning upon which I made my sketches of the 
ancient mills and the old bridges, there were two of them 
over the river, the sky suddenly darkened, and a heavy 
shower of rain fell. I took refuge in the open doorway 
of one of the old mills, and sat on the lower step of a 
ruinous dusty steep stairway leading upwards into 
mysterious deep shadows. Somewhere in the interior 
sounded the rhythmic beating of heavy machinery, but 
save for this, the " drumming fingers of the rain," and an 
occasional tinkle of a bell high up in the tower of the 
cathedral, there were no signs or sounds of life. Meaux 
is not a large town, neither is it a very lively one, but 
it is charmingly situated. Were it farther away from 
Pans, I doubt not that it might attract the tourist, for 
It has a most delightful public promenade along the river 

181 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Marne which is entered immediately before the railway 
station. But up to the time of the outbreak of the great 
world war, Meaux was comparatively unknown to the 
foreigner tourist, and were it not for the old mills of 
which I had heard, I should not have stopped there. The 
cathedral treasury possessed copies of nine of Raphael's 
cartoons, and included two of the three " lost " ones, de- 
scribed as " Martyrdom of St. Stephen and Conversion 
of St. Paul." There were also copies of frescoes by Guido 
Reni and Dominichino, an " Adoration of the Magi " 
after Champaigne and an " Annunciation " after Stella. 
I had made notes concerning these in my pocket diary and 
as I sat on the step in the old doorway of the dusty mill, 
I mused over the pages while the raindrops fell outside. 
All at once the door swung to slowly, and when I tried 
to open it, I found that it was fast and would not yield. 
There was no sort of knob visible in the gloom, nor was 
there any aperture in the door through which light could 
come. There seemed to be light somewhere above, so I 
mounted the steps, which stopped abruptly before an- 
other closed door which, however, was not fastened, for 
it yielded at once to my touch. There was a small win- 
dow here of four panes thick with dust, through which 
some feeble light came. More steep steps led upward, 
and I continued to mount, judging that I should soon 
come to some sort of room where there were men at work. 

182 



MEAUX 

But at the top of these stairs was a similar door and more 
steps, and still another flight brought me into an immense 
empty room with an uneven floor, the planks of which 
were loose here and there and gave alarmingly to my 
weight. Overhead huge beams crossed and recrossed the 
dimness, and on these beams perched countless numbers 
of rooks, who uneasily regarded my intrusion. The win- 
dov/s — there were five of them — I could not reach 
from the floor, nor could I by jumping up, try as I might, 
reach the sills, so that I might see out. Backwards and 
forwards I passed, and then along the blank wall which 
I judged adjoined the neighboring mill, seeking a door- 
way. I could find none. Finally I found a small door, 
not more than three feet from the floor in the blank wall. 
This was fastened by a hasp and opened readily. I got 
down on my hands and knees in the dust which lay 
thickly, and crept through it into a second large dim 
room, almost the counterpart of that which I had just left, 
save that it was lighted by only one window and this 
without glass. It, too, was high up in the wall like the 
others. 

In the very middle of the uneven floor was an un- 
guarded opening through which the heavy ropes of a 
pulley hung. I lost no time in feeling my way carefully 
down the steps at one side which were without any rail 
to hold on to. I found that there was a ladder here by 

183 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

which I might descend, which I did at once, but with some 
misgivings as to where it might land me. 

Now I heard voices from below and, reassured, I put 
foot to the ladder. In a few moments I was on the floor 
below, but as I was about to walk away from the ladder 
in the darkness towards an opening on the farther end, I 
bethought me to put out a foot carefully to try the floor. 
To my horror there was no floor there, and retreating I 
lighted a match and threw it before me. The feeble 
flame was enough to show a great black chasm where I 
had thought to step a moment before, and the hair on my 
scalp rose in fright at my escape. I shouted aloud for 
help — I heard running footsteps — and right beside 
me a door opened letting in a flood of daylight and the 
figure of one of the millers, who regarded me with open- 
mouthed astonishment, as well he might. 

When I had explained my predicament, he and the 
other men who gathered about were loud in their expres- 
sions of wonder at my escape from a terrible death, for 
had I but stepped a foot farther, I had fallen forty or 
fifty feet into a sluiceway from which they vowed I never 
could have escaped alive. I invited all hands over to the 
cafe, and there I gave offerings to Bacchus in honor of my 
escape which were eagerly consumed by the millers of 
Meaux. 

M. Georges Montorgueil, writing in "La Cites 
184 



MEAUX 

Meurtries, 1916," his account of the early days of terror 
in Meaux, gives a picture of the old priest who so de- 
votedly and courageously shepherded his little flock of 
women and children, helpless before the invasion and 
destruction of the town by the Germans : 

" Where, meanwhile, was the venerable priest, an old 
man of seventy-five years, the Abbe Fossin, whose age 
and gray hairs was no protection, to him, nor the eighteen 
unfortunates who were seized with him by the Germans 
and thrown into jail, under the most atrocious circum- 
stances, not matched by any of its most ancient barbari- 
ties when the Germans were known as ' Finns.' 

" The Abbe Fossin kept a Journal of events during the 
tragic hours preceding his arrest : 

" ' 5th of September, 1914. Saturday. 

" ' I read my breviary. An aeroplane passed above my 
head. The bodies of two pilots killed by a bomb were 
taken to the cemetery. A group of captured French 
soldiers are passing. " L'eglise en ambulance." The 
prisoners of Guerard have gone. All the electric lights 
in the town are out. 

" ' 6th September. Sunday. 

" ' A bad night. Impossible to say Mass or hold 
funeral of the two aviators in the cemetery because of 
the falling shells. The cannonade began at nine o'clock 
and lasted until five o'clock without interruption. We 

185 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

are under a very rain of fire ! The batteries of the Ger- 
mans, placed behind the presbytery, have been located 
by the English. I believe my last hour has arrived. The 
din is frightful! I have thanked God that I am pro- 
tected. 

" ' 7th September. Monday. 

" ' The battle has recommenced. Still impossible to 
say the Holy Mass. I paid a visit to the Germans m the 
Church. These are the most terribly wounded. They 
gave me their hands. They are badly off. I cannot give 
them bread ; all I had, all the fruits of my garden have 
disappeared I I have nothing left I — ' 

" The diary ends here. Here was a holy man of vener- 
able years of known truth and great charity, visiting his 
enemies to give them what he had, his prayers. He had 
nothing else to give. He was fatigued for lack of sleep. 
He was hungry, but he had nothing to eat. All he had 
in his meager house and small garden had been either 
taken away^or destroyed. Witness now his recompense : 
less than an hour after he had written those last notes in 
his diary, the Germans had seized and dragged him be- 
fore a wrathful German officer. 

" He was charged with having climbed the tower of 
the cathedral to signal to the British lines. He who so 
suffered from rheumatism that he could hardly walk from 
his doorway to the church, a few paces away, by the aid 

186 



MEAUX 

of a cane. He was insulted by the officer, the soldiers 
who held him up before his questioner spat in his face. 
At length his shoes and clothes were stripped from him, 
and with great brutality he was thrown into a cellar, 
where he spent the night, with some potato bags to cover 
him. In the morning the door above was flung open, and 
a number of captives were thrown down the steep steps 
of the cellar way. These were Milliardet, Jourdin, 
Vapaille, Therre, Croix, Eugene Leriche, Lacour, Jules 
Denis, Berthelemy Denis, Merillon, Combes, Mesnil, 
Lievin, Faure and his son, aged fifteen, who was baker's 
boy in the village of Vareddes, and known under the 
nickname of ' Marmiton.' 

" To this group the Germans added later in the day 
Paul Lebel and Vincent Denis, arrested because the latter 
called out to a German soldier, ' Eh, well, old man, you 
are not yet at Paris I ' 

" On Saturday, without feeding them or allowing any 
one to visit them, all these unfortunates were divided 
into several groups, and surrounded by soldiers, hus- 
tled along the road to Lizy-sur-Ourcy, where they were 
halted. 

" They numbered now fifteen in all, not counting the 
old priest, the Abbe Fossin. 

" Pere Leriche, who was himself seventy-four years old, 
relates that the Abbe, who lay prostrate on the ground 

187 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

beside him, said to him in a low voice, ' I believe that 
they are going to shoot me — take my watch and breviary, 
and try and get them to my family.' When the march 
was resumed the Abbe could not walk fast enough to suit 
the soldiers. He was pushed and struck by them, his 
soutane was torn to ribbons. Finally they threw him 
into a wagon which they seized on the road. In this he 
lay groaning. He died a short time later, and was left 
beside the road. The heat was atrocious; thus they 
marched, the younger ones sustaining the elders, through 
the long hours to the rear, without water or food, insulted 
and beaten constantly by their captors. 

" At Coulomb, Pere Jourdain fell in the road, unable 
to continue the march. He was immediately dispatched 
by a revolver shot. 

"At Chezy-en-Orxois, another old man, Milliardet, 
eighty years old, was similarly disposed of. Any com- 
plaint was the signal of death. Both Terry and Croix 
were shot for whistling. 

" Old Eugene Menie, who halted on the edge of a deep 
ditch, was struck by the butt of a gun in the hands of one 
of the soldiers, and his neck broken — they threw him 
into the ditch and went on. 

" Pere Lievin, aged sixty-one, who had heart disease, 
could not keep step with the others ; he was purple in the 
face, and his eyes stuck out so comically that it amused 

188 



MEAUX 

the soldiers, who finally shot him and left his body at the 
cemetery gate in Chauny." 

These are only haphazard extracts from the records 
of that terrible month of September, 1914, when unfor- 
tunate Meaux was the very center of affairs. Elsewhere 
we read of the aspects of the streets after each successive 
bombardment, the telegraph hanging in festoons on the 
footways, the trunks of huge trees felled by cannon bar- 
ring the way; the carcasses of animals lying about amid 
strange debris, such as heavy leather shoes, broken guns, 
sticks and barrels, empty tin cans, torn and ragged cloth- 
ing clotted with blood, strange piles of still smoking 
ashes containing small bones, and over all the odor of 
burning petroleum. 

The houses with wide open doors and sashless window 
frames; gardens uprooted and despoiled; walls thrown 
down, and strewn about an immense quantity of broken 
glass bottles. These were the streets of Meaux, which 
I had explored on that peaceful morning in August, 19 10, 
and made the sketches of the old bridge with its clus- 
tered mills, the fire blackened beams now hanging in 
grotesque ruins over the water of the little green river. 

The bombardment began on Monday, the 7th of Sep- 
tember, 1914. The first of the German shells fell upon 
the town at eleven in the morning, in the direction of the 
fauburg St.-Nicholas, then in the fauburg St.-Faron. 

189 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

The bombardment followed the line of the railway. In 
the cemetery the ancient tombs were scattered in all di- 
rections; ten shells destroyed the hospital. The Grand 
Seminary fell next. Of the one hundred and twenty 
shells which on this Monday fell in the town, the first 
five did the greatest damage. Whole lines of houses 
were thrown down and set on fire. This lasted until six 
in the afternoon. The next day shells began to fall again 
in the early morning. The cathedral was encircled by 
shells, which did great damage, but by a special Provi- 
dence with the exception of an enormous hole in the roof, 
and the destruction of the venerable cloisters, the ancient 
cathedral escaped the fate of its neighbors. 

This is the chronology : Wednesday, September 2, the 
exodus; Thursday, the town lay deserted and helpless; 
Friday, the organization of all the available defensive 
forces; Saturday and Sunday, the battle; Monday, the 
bombardment; Tuesday, the enemy driven off, and the 
town saved. 



190 



%nh 



%mM 



Q||^ROM the railway station one could see the towers 
I P of the cathedral and the old church of St. Pierre, 
^^ above the heavy trees of a short avenue which led 
to that part of the town, where formerly stood the old 
ramparts — and to the Porte Royale. 

The best and most picturesque part of the town, of 
interest to the antiquary, was the western end, and here 
were tortuous and delightful crooked narrow streets, 
quaint little gabled houses, old mossy walls surrounding 
luxuriant gardens, and some remains of the remarkable 
chateaux of a bygone period. 

Ancient stronghold in past centuries, it had become a 
little old sleepy town given over to churches and the 
priesthood. Of the ancient Gallo-Roman fortifications 
there were still to be seen, up to the outbreak of the war 
in 1914, sixteen of the Roman towers in a fair state of 
preservation. A small river, the Nonette, passes through 
it, winding most exquisitely. Situated some thirty-five 
miles from Paris, and on the edge of the Champagne dis- 
trict, its character could be best appraised from the charm- 

193 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

ing public promenade along the river's bank, lined with 
fine trees and offering vistas of great picturesqueness. 

The old cathedral dates back to the early days of the 
thirteenth century; its lace-like gray tower, covered with 
exquisite Gothic ornamentation, was a source of delight 
to artists and antiquarians. Usually covered with scaf- 
folding, the tower was in a constant state of repair, but 
the spidery scaffolding seemed not at all to detract from 
the charm of its lines. 

One of the architects in charge explained that the vault- 
ing and the first stage of the choir, the "triform ambula- 
tory" had been removed because of cracks developing in 
the masonry, but this alteration did not seem to have re- 
sulted in any loss to the interior artistically. Indeed, as 
it stood in 19 lO, the choir elevation was a most exquisite 
example of thirteenth century construction and design. 

Lying in the midst of the great forest lands of Chantilly 
and Hallette, Senlis, until the dissolution of the Carlo- 
vingian Empire, was the place of royal residence, and 
even thereafter, to the time of Henry of Navarre, the 
kings of France preferred it to all others. The Castle 
was built upon the site of the Roman Prsetorium, the ruins 
of which were pointed out to tourists. The ancient 
Roman ramparts which still in part surrounded the town 
were also shown, and the walls were said to be thirteen 
feet thick. " They enclosed an area, oval in form, one 

194 







il'h 



SENLIS 

thousand and twenty feet long from east to west and 
seven hundred and ninety-four feet wide from north to 
south. At each of the angles formed by the broken lines 
of which the circuit of two thousand seven hundred and 
fifty-six feet is composed, stands or stood a tower; num- 
bering twenty-eight and now only sixteen, they are semi- 
circular in plan, and up to the height of the wall are un- 
pierced. The Roman city had only two gates ; the present 
number is five," 

The old cathedral was both curious and fascinating, 
as well as of great beauty. Begun in 1154 on really 
enormous lines, its original plan was never carried out 
for want of funds. Century after century it had been re- 
built, altered, extended and replanned, until it had be- 
come, as an American architect of renown styled it, " an 
epitome of French architecture from the middle of the 
twelfth to the middle of the fifteenth century." 

Its companion unfinished, the great southwest tower is 
of the thirteenth century, and is said to be "unsurpassed 
by no other spire in France for subtlety of composition 
and perfection of detail." 

One of its beautiful " crocketed " pinnacles was shot 
away in the bombardment by the Germans in 1915, and 
the loss left the world poor indeed. 

It is certainly a strange sensation for us to watch from 
a distance the continuous destruction of the great works 

195 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

of art of the world, powerless to prevent it. For us all 
this loss is personal, poignant, unexampled; a horror that 
nothing can palliate nor time soften. 

The ancient Renaissance tower of St. Pierre had been 
used as a public market, and also as a cavalry barrack 
because of its ruinous state. In form it was most curious, 
being very short and too wide for proportion. While the 
prevailing style was flamboyant, it contained a certain 
amount of early Gothic work of considerable interest and 
value. I regret that I did not make a sketch of it when I 
was there, for the scene at early morning with the crowds 
of market people, and the vegetable stalls all about, and 
rising above them the bare gray walls of the nave and 
the choir, formed a picture of much quaintness. 

The glory of the old cathedral of " Notre Dame " was 
the beautiful spire upon the southwest tower. Of infi- 
nite grace and lightness with its detached pillars, it rose 
from an octagonal base which supported a sort of canopy 
in pyramidal form, the whole adorned with a wealth of 
delicate carving and tracery, and pierced by high dormer 
lancet shaped windows, about which flew clouds of ravens 
or starlings. 

The great door in the west front reminded one of that at 
Chartres, and was adorned with figures of Our Lord and 
the Virgin, some of the figures of the angels being of re- 
markable character and grace. Inside in the ambulatory 

196 



SENLIS 

behind the altar are some of the twelfth century Roman- 
esque capitals, and elsewhere are found other evidences 
of Roman influence. 

All accounts agree that this beautiful edifice has now 
been entirely destroyed by the invader (1917)- 

Former wars have swept the little town from time to 
time in the past, but the cathedral remained practically 
untouched until the present day. Whatever the former 
causes, or however violent the onslaught of the opposing 
forces, these priceless records of art were spared by com- 
mon consent, save perhaps when the Revolution swept 
over the cloisters, and even then the havoc wrought was 
reparable, but now comes one calling himself the anointed 
representative of God, and annihilates an innocent peo- 
ple and destroys the treasures of a land which he cannot 
conquer. 

Just what remains at this time of Senlis cannot be ascer- 
tained, but all accounts agree that the huge gray Roman- 
esque tower can no longer be seen upon the horizon, and 
that the bombardment of the ruins continues. Baron 
Andre de Maricourt has written a most complete mono- 
graph of Senlis. (Senlis. Baron Andre de Maricourt, 
ancien eleve de I'ecole des Chartes. " Les Cites Meur- 
tries." Paris. Librarie de I'Eclair.) 

" Hidden away among the heavy trees which surround 
it upon all sides, lies the little town of Senlis, almost a 

197 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

suburb of Paris." According to the old proverb, " To 
live happily is to remain hidden." So Senlis remained 
comparatively forgotten. The very names of its streets 
were strange to modern ears and evoked smiles from the 
stranger, and its old houses, dating from the days of "la 
reine Berthe," enchanted the antiquary. 

This little town of seven thousand inhabitants was in- 
deed one of the capitals of ancient France during the 
times of the Capets, and in the royal chateau which shel- 
tered the chiefs of the Merovingians, and royalties down 
to the days of Henry IV, were written many pages of 
the history of France. One recalls the days of Charles 
le Chauve, of d'Hugues Capet and St. Louis, the quar- 
rel of the Armagnaces and the Bourguignons, recalled by 
the strange picture by Melingue, " Les Otages de Sen- 
lis," which was in the Hotel de Ville up to the time of 
the bombardment by the Germans. Also may be re- 
called the passage of Jeanne d' Arc through the town, and 
then the wars of the "Ligue," — all proving the impor- 
tance of Senlis of the past. 

In the eighteenth century, Louis XV, in order to render 
the town more accessible, constructed a fine roadway from 
Paris to the royal residence, and Senlis emerged from its 
quietude, amazed at the lines of gilded equipages and the 
prancing horses urged on the gallop by gorgeously dressed 
lackeys which daily thronged the way. 

198 



i r 






^ 






fc'-fti? 



ir-^Li ' ITT j ^;fi«S 



%';'Cis.,.j^siit,..;^i.,iA^f 




I f^/ I 



■Senlis. 



K' 



^^ 



SENLIS 

This roadway, called formerly the " Rue Neuve de 
Paris," was the principal artery of the little old city, 
under the twenty-year-old name of " Rue de la Repub- 
lique." 

Sung by poets, such as Gerard de Nerval, and Maurice 
Barres, M. Andre Halleys described Senlis as " tortueuse, 
taciturne et charmante," and dwelt lovingly upon its 
" mossy terraces," its ancient walls bathed in sunlight, 
and its grand old tower whose perfect bells sounded over 
the golden green fields. 

In the early summer days of 1914, the Society of Ama- 
teurs held their celebration at Senlis, says Baron de 
Maricourt, " a few months ago, months which seem 
years now. The ceremony was to celebrate the Victory 
of Bouvignes. In the St. Rieul Hall, Madame la 
duchesse de Vendome sat beside M. Odent, the mayor of 
the town, who spoke feelingly of ancient France, and of 
Flanders. . . . 

" One month later the Hall was occupied by cavalry; 
our own cavalry of France. . . . On the horizon lay the 
German army. . . . 

" Three weeks later M. Odent, the mayor, was killed in 
the bombardment; the Hall of Saint-Rieul was a hospital ; 
the brother of the princess had become ' Albert le Brave,' 
the plain of Bouvignes was bathed in blood; Senlis was 
burning; the inhabitants had fled." 

199 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

* 

It would appear that Senlis was burned and sacked to 
inspire Paris with terror, and as an example of the fate 
that awaited her. 

Nearly all the inhabitants fled when the news came that 
the Germans had crossed the border. A few of the citi- 
zens resolved to remain to support the mayor and magis- 
trates in keeping the peace, to patrol the town to prevent 
looting, and to watch for fires. Some pieces of heavy 
artillery had been arranged before the Hotel de Ville 
and under the towers of the Cathedral, but there was 
neither ammunition for these nor soldiers in the town to 
use them. The town was silent, the factories empty, the 
streets almost deserted. In the town hall, the few faith- 
ful ones remained on watch day and night grouped about 
the mayor. In some of the rooms were refugees from 
neighboring towns, old men and women with young chil- 
dren who had nowhere else to go. In the hospitals the 
nuns and nurses cared for the wounded who had been 
brought to the town in large numbers. There were no 
soldiers hereabouts. This is the truth (affirms the Baron 
de Maricourt) . The Germans understood and saw a dif- 
ferent picture, so they say. They heard the movement of 
vast bodies of armed men; they saw the " franc tireurs " 
in the trees firing upon them, they saw cannon protrud- 
ing from the windows of the towers of the old cathe- 
dral. ... So the knell of Louvain sounded for Sen- 

200 



SENLIS 

lis. ... So wrote the Baron de Maricourt of Senlis, who 
remained in the town during the occupation by the Ger- 
mans, who suffered at their hands all the indignities they 
could devise; who remained calm and heroic through all 
the terrors of the bombardment and destruction of his be- 
loved town. 

" The first German body of troops which entered the 
town carried with them a corps of incendiaries in regular 
formation upon bicycles, armed with tubes of metal con- 
taining, as was afterwards ascertained, picric acid, and 
others a kind of wick of cotton charged with gasoline or 
petroleum. Some of the men carried hand grenades 
strung around their waists or over their shoulders, and 
these they threw into open windows and doorways of 
designated houses. By midnight the sky was illuminated 
by fires in every quarter of the town." 

It commenced in the faubourg St.-Martin. It is 
said that the soldiers warned the occupants of houses 
designated to leave before they set fire to them. " Let us 
be just to the German soldiers," says M. de Mari- 
court. " In the evening of the day of occupation, the 
Archdeacon was brought to the Hotel du Grand-Cerf, by 
the concierge Boullay. He was paraded before the of- 
ficers, but was not mistreated, except that he was com- 
pelled to stand, and no one addressed him. Finally he 
was ordered to return to his quarters, but hardly had he 

201 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

arrived there, before another order came for him to re- 
turn at once to the Grand-Cerf. Already towards the 
south end of the town the houses were in flames, and he 
saw the soldiers carrying lighted torches. He was 
brought before an officer who spoke French and whose 
manner was not discourteous : — 

" ' Monsieur,' said he, ' attend to me,' — and he read 
from a paper charges that the priest had allowed citizens 
to fire upon the entering German troops. 

" ' It is not true,' replied the Archdeacon, ' I was 
alone in the church, and the keys were in my pocket.' 

" The officer read upon the face of the priest the evi- 
dent sincerity of his words. 

" ' Poor priest I Poor town ! ' he said pityingly, ' I be- 
lieve you, but I must obey orders.' 

"'How so?' 

" ' Because I am ordered to treat Senlis as was Louvain ; 
by to-morrow there will remain not one stone upon an- 
other.' 

" M. Douvlent pleaded eloquently for his parishioners, 
whose innocence he vouched for. The officer seemed im- 
pressed. 

You are a Catholic priest, but alas, war is cruel, and 
orders are not to be ignored. This town merits chastise- 
ment.' 

" ' Take me before the General,' urged the priest, ' I 

202 



SENLIS 

am your prisoner, and I have the right to plead the cause 
of my innocent parishioners.' 

" ' No, sir,' retorted the officer frowningly, ' nothing of 
the sort; do you not realize that you are in great dan- 
ger?' 

" ' Danger? ' ejaculated the priest, ' I fear no danger, I 

have made my sacrifice ; I have faced it all this morning.' 

" ' Very well,' said the officer, somewhat more gently, 

' but I think it will be best for you to return to your house. 

If necessary I will call you.' 

" A short time after this conversation, I saw the priest, 
with the few who remained of his household, standing 
in the Square. I saw them again at about one in the 
morning; they were still standing in the Square beneath 
the lamp which shone upon their anxious faces. A dozen 
or so German soldiers stood about. Two sentries paced 
up and down, one at each crossing. No one returned to 
their houses. The curtain had risen upon the drama of 
Senlis. . . . 

" At the end of this day, Thursday, M. Odent (the 
mayor of Senlis), left the Hotel de Grand-Cerf accom- 
panied by an officer, and entering a covered automobile 
was driven rapidly away, followed by five cavalrymen. 

" They stopped at a place called ' le Poteari,' situated 
between Senlis and Chamont; there they found six cap- 
tives whom the Germans had taken at hazard on the route. 

20-^ 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

" One of these, named Delacroix, had been arrested in 
company with two workmen named Quentin and Reck, 
the latter a mason by trade, at the corner of the Rue de 
Bordeaux and la Republique, at the moment when the 
firing was the hottest in that quarter. Reck had been hit 
in the jaw and in the arm. The German soldiers enter- 
ing the town found him bleeding in the road and with the 
singular, the unexplainable attitude of the German, at 
one moment cruel to the last degree, at the next of lamb- 
like gentleness, these soldiers conducted the wounded man 
Reck to the ' prefecture,' where his wounds were tenderly 
dressed by a German Major! 

" Quentin and Delacroix were taken at Chamont with 
revolvers in their hands, together with a stranger who was 
visiting the house of his sister, and two others, Benoit 
Decrens, a domestic servant, and Boullet, a laborer. 

" Up to eleven o'clock in the evening these unhappy 
captives were marched up and down the various streets 
and alleys of the village by their captors, until at length 
near the Bon Secours woods in a secluded spot, an officer 
ordered the mayor and the six captives to lie down on the 
grass. When this was done, he ordered the mayor, M. 
Odent, to rise and advance three paces. 

" The soldiers presented arms. 

" ' You are the Mayor Odent? ' called out the officer 
brusquely. 

204 



SENLIS 

" ' Yes.' 

" ' You have fired on our men? ' 

" ' No.' 

" ' You have fired on our men,' insisted the ferocious 

voice, ' you are to be shot! ' 

" M. Odent handed his papers to Benoit and shook 
hands with his companions. He then clasped his hands 
in prayer, after which he stood with eyes calmly fixed 
upon the officer. The officer raised his hands, motion- 
ing to the soldiers. 

" They shot the mayor with their revolvers. . . . 
" Afterwards, the officer made a little speech to the 
terrified men. 

" ' War is as sad for us as it is for you. It is France 
and your Poincare that you must blame — they would 
have it. We Germans do not make war upon civilians, 
but those who fire upon us will be promptly shot.' 

" These men were then used as guides by the officers, 
during their occupancy of the town. When no longer 
of use, they disappeared. 

" There were others, too; I do not know how many. 
There was little Gabanel, the son of the butcher, a merry 
little chap, known throughout the neighborhood, he dis- 
appeared with his father's old white horse and the red, 
two-wheeled wagon. He was never heard of again . . . 
and there was the baker's boy Jaudin, whose mutilated 

205 



VANISHED HALLS OF FPIANCE 

body was found in a field at Villers-St. Frambourg. . . . 
There was the hunchback Cottreau, aged seventeen, a 
harmless cripple who was found hanging in the attic of 
an inn. . . . 

" Arthur Rigault, the stone cutter, Elisee Pommier, 
aged 67 years. . . . 

" Jean Barbier, wagon driver. . . . 

" Pierre Dewart, chauffeur. 

" None of these can ever relate their terrible stories. 
We shall never know what happened to them." 



206 



W^ #trt^ti of (S^rWn^r 



W^ (tMtm of (fi^rMQ^r 

S^^HE chateau and the Chapel Palatine of Gerbeviller 
flJU were unique in many respects. Dating from the 
^■•^ thirteenth century, the chateau served as appanage 
to the Cadets of Lorraine, to whom they were given by 
Charles the Bold, and transmitted in i486 to Huet du 
Chatelet, whose illustrious family founded the Maison 
des Carmes. 

In 1641 it came into the hands of Charles-Emmanuel de 
la Tornielle, step-brother of Christian du Chatelet of the 
powerful Tornielle family, thence it descended succes- 
sively to the Lombartyes, in whose possession it remained 
until it was seized and sold by the state in the troublous 
times of 1796. 

The chapel was restored, almost reconstructed and con- 
secrated on the nineteenth of July, 1865, by Monsignor 
Lavigerie with great splendor and pomp in the presence 
of the Lombartye family and a score of dignitaries of the 
state. 

209 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

The chateau itself, constructed in the eighteenth cen- 
tury, was possessed of what the French call " grand air," 
and was certainly imposing in size from a distance, shin- 
ing among the dark green of the heavy foliage which 
surrounded it. Its facade on the road was somewhat 
marred by the narrowness of the approach. But the 
fagade on the parkway, through which a small brook 
called the " Montague " meandered most delightfully, 
was most impressive. The sketch which I made of it will 
serve to show the character of the great house better than 
many pages of written description. 

The reputation enjoyed by this great typical chateau 
of France was not by any means confined to the country. 
It was known throughout Europe, and for this reason, I 
suppose, was a shining mark for the Teutons. 

At the side of the chateau was the grand entrance, used 
only upon state occasions. This entrance was flanked by 
two immense " vasques " or vases of dark gray marble, 
a little too monumental, perhaps architects might think, 
but taken together with the " grand air " of the chateau 
entirely in keeping, to my mind. These it is claimed still 
stand unharmed amid the ruins all about. 

The Chapel Palatine architecturally, perhaps, does not 
merit extended eulogy. Its towers are shot away, and 
some blackened calcined walls are all that remain. But 
the treasures which it contained, now either destroyed or 

210 



' \.i^^,xm%jj,^^ ' iM i 


















V j4 ei bw<H«f, 



[n 'ic >'.in Ccni.,y^ 



»i*'*1**ll 



THE CHATEAU OF GERBEVILLER 

carried off to Berlin, who shall say if they can ever be re- 
placed? I am told that the family of Lombartye, and 
notably its last representative, who restored it in 1865, 
was long a resident of Rome, and being very wealthy had 
collected a vast store of most valuable objects of art of 
all kinds, including statuary and paintings, and these he 
had installed not only in the chateau, but had so enriched 
the chapel that it was a veritable storehouse of precious 
objects — even more than a museum, because most of 
them related to the history of the ancient families who 
had occupied Gerbeviller. 

Here then in this small chapel was a collection of mar- 
vels o^f decorative art, tapestries of Arras, examples of 
the jeweler's craft, illuminations upon vellum, a hundred 
or more priceless volumes, and notably a collection of 
funerary urns, containing the ashes of most illustrious 
personages, including some of the Saints. Among the 
treasures in this small chapel was a series of the tapestries 
of Gobelin, another of Beauvais, and a third complete 
pictorial set made in Antwerp after the cartoons of Nico- 
las Memling. These last, just before the destruction of 
Gerbeviller, were presented to the Cathedral of Nancy. 
The others are among the ashes of the ruins. 

The Master altar of the chapel was covered by a mag- 
nificent "ciborium," raised upon three columns of black 
marble, ornamented by " tears " of silver of twelfth cen- 

211 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

tury workmanship. The great candelabra, called " Flam- 
beaux," were of Flemish work, and had twenty-four lus- 
ters ; these were destroyed. 

There were splendid tombs on all sides; one was a re- 
production of that of Henry I, Count of Champagne, and 
of St. Etienne of Troyes; the tomb of Lombartye, of de la 
Vieufville, of Rochechourt-la-Rochefoucauld, of du 
Caylar, of Vieuville, of Gouy d'Arsy, and that of Pere 
Jandel the Dominican. All these are mutilated and 
broken. Of the funeral urns, one contained the ashes of 
St. Auguste, the martyr; another of what is called 
"cipoUin," the ashes of Ste Victoire; a red marble one 
those of St. Vital; a " chasse " held a portion of the 
petrified bones of Candide, presented by the Bishop of 
Nancy. Another one contained the bones of St. Felix 
Remain. 

A great tall " ciborium " contained the " relique " of 
Tarcisius, the young martyr of the Eucharist. These, 
contained in a wonderful chest covered with vermilion 
enamel, bore an epitaph composed by Pope Damase, and 
were brought from Rome by the Dominicans. Overjoyed 
in the possession of such a treasure, the Marquis of Lom- 
bartye, sought an artist of renown who could make a fit- 
ting monument to contain it. His choice fell upon Fal- 
guiere the sculptor. He it was who fashioned the ex- 
quisite statue in the Luxembourg. But it is not generally 

212 



THE CHATEAU OF GERBEVILLER 

known that this is a replica of the original which was in 
the Chapel of Gerbeviller, and which is now entirely de- 
stroyed. 

I understand that in searching the ruins, certain frag- 
ments of precious objects have been found and removed 
to Paris. 

M. Pigot in his report claims that the head of Fal- 
guiere's statue of St. Tarcisius was found among the 
ashes, and, placed in a strong oaken box, has been given 
into the hands of M. le Sous-Prefet of Luneville. 

But the remarkable paintings which the chapel con- 
tained are of course entirely consumed in the fire caused 
by the bombs and shells which fell upon the chapel for 
days at a time. There was the painting by Lippo Lippi; 
a portrait of Prosper Lambartini (Pope Benoit XIV) ; a 
triptych by Fra Angelico; one by Sandro Botticelli; The 
Virgin, the infant and two angels; a copy of the " Femme 
Adultere" by Titian; a Benozzo Gozzoli; a canvas by a 
pupil of Ferrare, and various others. There was a splen- 
did statue of the Virgin in terra cotta of the sixteenth 
century; a life size St. Joseph by Lizier-Richie ; and 
two statues of Christ and John the Baptist in bronze by 
Dubois. Of these the statue of Christ remains (says M. 
Pigot in his report) " unharmed." 

The little town of Gerbeviller itself is entirely de- 
stroyed, and the wretched inhabitants are scattered to the 

213 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

four winds. And for what good was all this, one asks? 
M. Georges Goyan, writing in the Revue des Deux 
Mondes, of the heroic work performed by the nuns of 
France, relates a touching story of a Sister Julia of Gerbe- 
viller, who, when the village was in flames and a German 
officer was about to give the order to burn the Red Cross 
pavilion, stepped before the lieutenant and with the most 
superb courage defied him to commit the sacrilege. The 
officer, a Bavarian, taken aback for the moment, bowed 
his head, and the pavilion was spared. 
, Sister Gabriela of the little town of Clermont-en-Ar- 
gonne was no less courageous. She advanced to meet the 
army of the Crown Prince when it arrived, saying, " We 
will care for your wounded, if you will spare the town." 
She received a promise, which was not kept, however. 
Again, she sought the Colonel, and bravely said, " I see 
now that the word of a German officer is not to be relied 
on." Ashamed, he ordered the work of destruction 
stopped, and thus the town was spared. Twenty-five 
wounded French prisoners owed their lives to this de- 
voted nun, who in April, 1916, received the decoration of 
the war medal. Goyan quotes verbatim from the report 
of the nun, " The Major made his congratulatory speech 
while I was completing the bandage of my poor ' poilu,' 
whose head rested on my lap." 
Waldeck-Rousseau, the former Premier of France, in 
214 






ni$^kf' 





^^& 




THE CHATEAU OF GERBEVILLER 

a speech before the French senate in 1903 stated that 
" Catholicism survives in France, if not as a religious law, 
faithfully observed by everybody, at least as a social 
statute respected by the vast majority." M. Goyan de- 
clares that the French church is indeed a moral power to 
be reckoned with, " and when the war-tocsin had rung 
throughout the land, when the hour of death had been 
welcomed as an old dear friend, all misunderstandings 
of the past melted away, and now for fully twenty-eight 
months the church could again place itself at the disposal 
of France." 

With emotion and gratitude he relates the patriotic 
sacrifices made by the Protestant churches and the syna- 
gogues of France. Out of four hundred and ninety 
pastors of the Lutheran and Reformed churches, " one 
hundred and eighty are in the trenches : all students of 
the Paris Rabbinical Seminary and more than three-fifths 
of the officiating rabbis of the Republic left for the front; 
two of them were killed, one was missing. 

" When after this war is over, our sister churches will 
write their own martyrology. Catholic witnesses will rise 
to glorify their dead. The whole Catholic press ren- 
dered a well deserved homage to Chief Rabbi Bloch of 
Lyons, who was mortally wounded by a German bullet 
while he attended a dying Catholic soldier, holding the 
cross to his livid lips." 

215 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

After these prefatory remarks the author traces in his 
inimitable style a picture of the life and activity of the 
Catholic church from the unforgettable July days of 
1914, to date. One- third of its priesthood followed the 
call of their country.^ 

The Paris diocese alone has already buried forty-five 
of its members. The Cardinal-Archbishop of Lyons had 
to enlist laymen to fill the gaps in his decimated clergy. 
Bishops have become again parish priests. 

" Eleven young French monks, surprised by the Ger- 
man invasion in their monastery in the grand duchy of 
Luxembourg, disguised themselves, walking stealthily 
into Belgium, and from there to France, immediately 
joining their barracks. Dominicans and Jesuits vie with 
each other in patriotic devotion. The Church, cheer- 
fully accepting the abrogation of its time honored im- 
munities, with a noble gesture commanded the young 
priests to shoulder their rifles: 'Your parish,' ex- 
plained the Cardinal Archbishop of Rheims, Monseigneur 
Lugon, to his priests, ' is henceforth your regiment, your 
trench, your hospital. Love it as you have loved your 
church. Perhaps you will be buried on the battlefield. 
What of it ? Why should we priests not give our blood ? ' 
Thus, the priest is no longer isolated from the people; 
he has become an integral part of it. The Dominican 

^ The Literary Digest, Feb. 17, 1917. 
216 



THE CHATEAU OF GERBEVILLER 

sergeants and Jesuit lieutenants have built the bridge. 
And who, on the other hand, would have believed, a short 
three years ago, that a company of French soldiers, edu- 
cated in the godless school of the Republic, should, be- 
fore preparing for assault, receive absolution on their 
knees'? 

" A parallel case to this kneeling company receiving 
absolution is the scene in the Bois d'Argonne, of March 
7, 1916, when 'the successive waves of a regiment, 
marching to the attack, bowed themselves before the rep- 
resentative of God, de Chabrol, Chaplain of the division, 
whose hand, while the guns were thundering, made the 
sign of the redemption.' " (Quoted textually from an 
order of the day, by the commanding general.) 

Fifty-nine priests and seminarists of the Paris diocese 
received crosses while practically under fire. " The nat- 
ural love of the soil and the love of the church combined, 
produce heroic souls of a peculiarly noble blending. The 
olden days when bishops were the supreme lords of towns 
and countries were revived, if only for a short time, at 
Meaux, and elsewhere, shortly before the battle of the 
Marne. On September 3, 1914, the armies of von Kluck 
were expected any moment and the civil authorities fled. 
Bishop Marbeaux took possession of the City Hall, and 
with a rare skill organized the various municipal services. 
Generals Joffre and Gallieni had stopped the triumphal 

217 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

onslaught of the German troops. On September 9, the 
civil authorities returned to Meaux and Mayor Mar- 
beaux gave in his resignation. Similar was the situation 
in Soissons and Chalons-sur-Marne ; the cathedrals again 
became civic centers. 

" But our priests (continues M. Goyan) in the midst 
of the brutal butchery, are not unmindful of the Saviour's 
advice to love even our enemies — above all, if the latter 
are in great stress themselves. Thus Rev. Landrieux of 
the cathedral of Rheims, while the church was burning, 
saved from its ruins at the risk of his life a group of 
wounded German soldiers. The enraged population was 
about to lynch them. ' You will have to kill me first,' 
said the courageous priest. Words fail to describe as 
they deserve the deeds of Bishop Lobbedeye of Arras and 
his clergy. 

" The tradition of the catacombs revived; a cellar was 
transformed into a church (while the town was under 
bombardment) and here the Bishop read his mass. The 
priests threw off their ' soutanes ' to become police and 
firemen, moving men and grave diggers. One of them, 
de Bonnieres, of noble birth, went every morning, brav- 
ing the bullets which whistled about his ears, into the 
suburbs begging the soldiers for the scraps, left over 
from their meals, to distribute these pittances among the 
starving poor of Arras. 

218 








fr5,*;i\A«<! ^^; , • 



THE CHATEAU OF GERBEVILLER 

" Thus, before the enemy the old union of church and 
state had been effected. The same population, the same 
government, which before had adopted the slogan, ' The 
priest's place is in the church,' requested the cooperation 
of the clergy. And the church obeyed the call. Every- 
thing was forgotten. ' Who cares now,' exclaimed Car- 
dinal Savin, * for the religious misunderstandings, polit- 
ical quarrels, and personal rivalries of the past I France 
first I United by the common danger, we learned to 
know and respect one the other, and after the war we will 
solve the grave problems which had separated us before 
the war. Our victory will be our main ally in this future 
work of pacification.' 

" Forever memorable will remain that great religious 
manifestation at Paris during the week of the Battle of 
the Marne, in honor of St. Genevieve, the patron of the 
French capital. She and Joan of Arc became again the 
divine protectors of France. 

" The people of Paris fell on their knees on the famous 
heights of Montmartre, the mountains of the Saint-Mar- 
tyrs of the past, a place historical in the annals of France. 
Even the skeptics thanked the church for its resuscita- 
tion of the religious spirit. France again remembered 
that she had once been ' the eldest daughter of the 
Church.' " (Georges Goyan.) 



219 



% %m\m 



9 %mm 



m 



HEN the history of the war is written at least 
three names of women will be enshrined for- 
ever in the annals : Sister Julie, the fearless nun 
of Gerbeviller; that heroic woman who took the place of 
and acted as mayor of Soissons when von Kluck's legions 
occupied and ravaged that unfortunate little city; and 
Marcelle Semmer, a young girl of eighteen, who showed 
such bravery and extraordinary fortitude in aid of France 
as to win encomiums from both the British and French 
officers, who recommended that she be decorated. She 
has just received both the ribbon of the Legion of Honor, 
and the War Cross as reward. 

M. L. L. Klotz, Deputy from the war-ravaged depart- 
ment of the Somme, has told in glowing words the story 
of how at the outbreak of the war, these noble women, 
left defenseless and at the mercy of the invaders, proudly 
faced these savages and really defied them. 

He told of Marcelle Semmer, a young orphan girl of 
eighteen, living in the little village of Eclusier, near 
Frise on the river Somme, at the beginning of the war. 

223 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

This young girl who showed the most extraordinary 
bravery and fortitude in the service of France, is per- 
haps but one of many others whose stories may never be 
known to the world. 

She was acting as bookkeeper and clerk in a factory, 
producing phosphates, which had been founded by her 
father, an Alsatian refugee. 

The invaders, driving back the Allies at Charleroi, 
captured the town, taking many prisoners. The French 
fell back across a canal, near the home of Marcelle Sem- 
mer, where there was a drawbridge. The heroic girl, un- 
mindful of her danger, succeeded in raising the draw- 
bridge before the enemy came up, and threw the lever 
into, the canal. Without this lever the bridge could not 
be lowered again. The canal at this point was so deep 
that the invading army could not ford it, and seeing the 
fleeing figure of the girl, the soldiers fired volley after 
volley after her, without once hitting her. 

By this audacious act, Marcelle Semmer held back the 
advance of an entire German army corps until the fol- 
lowing day, for the Germans had to await the arrival of 
their engineers before they were able to put a temporary 
bridge in place, and this they made of boats, and pon- 
toons hastily constructed, thus consuming hours which 
were of great value in enabling the hard-pressed French 
to escape from the hordes which far out-numbered them. 

224 



A HEROINE 

In spite of the danger of detection, the young girl in- 
sisted upon remaining in the village during its occupa- 
tion by the Germans; happily they did not recognize her 
as the girl who raised the drawbridge against them or she 
would have been shot at once. 

Near the factory where she worked was a shed covering 
a subterranean passage leading to the phosphate mine. 
She succeeded in concealing the entrance trap to this 
passage by means of some large tuns and bagging. Dur- 
ing the night she managed to conceal in this passage no 
less than seventeen French soldiers who had been some- 
how left in the retreat from the towns of Mons and Char- 
leroi. Not only did she succeed in keeping these men 
hidden, but she managed to secure for them both food and 
peasant clothing, and aided them to get away to the 
French lines to the south. Sixteen of these men suc- 
ceeded in getting away, but one dark night in a furious 
rainstorm while she was piloting the seventeenth to a 
cross-country lane, she was detected by a sentry, who 
dragged both of them before the German lieutenant. 

In the examination before the Commandant at head- 
quarters she defiantly confessed to having aided the 
French soldiers to escape, crying out, " Yes, I did it for 
France, and I shall do it again and again, if I am able. 
Do with me what you will. I am an orphan, I have but 
one mother, France ! For her, my life I " 

225 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

The Commandant promptly sentenced her to be shot. 
She was taken out of the room into the courtyard, where 
they placed her against the wall facing the firing squad, 
her arms tied behind her. 

Suddenly French artillery opened upon the German 
lines at Eclusier. Before the officer could give the word 
to fire upon the brave girl, a shell fell in the courtyard, 
and in the confusion, wonderful to relate, she escaped. 
While she had been assisting her fellow countrymen to 
escape the French had crept up, and routed the invaders 
from their position in the little town. 

So Marcelle once more fled to the subterranean passage, 
and there took up her quarters, rendering great service to 
the army, through her knowledge of the surrounding 
country. 

Between the lines of the opposing armies lay the river 
Somme, which here in the vicinity of Eclusier and Frise 
spreads out into a pond with marshy banks, and innumer- 
able pitfalls and bogs. In these the soldiers frequently 
lost their way, and here Marcelle found a way to help 
France by her knowledge of the safe paths. Again and 
again she faced death; finally she was captured while 
leading a squad of men across the bogs to a trench at 
Frise. She was brought by the Germans to the village of 
Frise, and there confined in the parish church, now, alas, 
a mass of ruin. Once more her never departing good for- 

226 



A HEROINE 

tune was her salvation. Almost before the door of her 
prison was fastened upon her, the French artillery began 
a lively bombardment of Frise. One of the shells blew a 
great hole in the wall of the little church, and out of this 
hole, unperceived by her captors, Marcelle escaped, over 
the marshes and through the tangled roads into the 
French lines. 

Enabled to give most valuable information as to the 
numbers and guns of the enemy, Marcelle's fame soon 
spread through the ranks. She was mentioned in the dis- 
patches, and received the Cross of the Legion of Honor, 
and later, before the drawn up soldiers of the corps, she 
received the War Cross. 

She was so useful in this region of the Somme that she 
asked to be allowed to remain at Frise to work for France, 
and so for a year and a half, despite the turn of the war, 
she stayed on, taking care^of the wounded men, and pro- 
tecting as far as possible women and children. 

So beloved did she become that an English general or- 
dered his soldiers to salute her on passing, and to refrain 
from addressing her unless she required it. Everywhere 
she went the soldiers both admired and honored this 
young girl. 

The loss of her brothers, who died fighting for France, 
and the strain of her work told upon her health, and the 

doctors ordered her to Paris. 

227 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Here she asked to be allowed to work at the nurses' 
school and to aid the wounded soldiers. To this the au- 
thorities assented, as she was thus enabled to earn a liveli- 
hood, for all that she had was lost at Eclusier when the 
mill was destroyed. In the great hall of the Sorbonne at 
Paris, a short time ago Deputy Klotz (of the Somme) 
eulogizing this young girl, suddenly stretched out his 
arms in dramatic gesture, electrifying the great audience 
with these words : 

" This little heroine of Picardy, this admirable girl ; 
this incarnation of the qualities of the women of France; 
this girl of simple origin, flawless dignity, of serious mind 
and gentle ways; this girl of indomitable will power is 
here, ladies and gentlemen, here among you, in this room I 

" And I feel that I am the spokesman for every one of 
you when I now extend to her the expression of our re- 
spect, our gratitude, our admiration ! " 

The vast audience, every man and woman of them, 
leaped to their feet, in enthusiasm, craning their necks 
to catch a glimpse of the heroine. 

Through the great Hall of the Sorbonne, where the 
most famous men of the world had been honored by 
France, swept a storm of cheers ; a reward more splendid 
than the Cross of the Legion of Honor, than the War 
Cross, than the salutes of the soldiers at the front, had 
come to Marcelle Semmer, of Eclusier. 

228 



%mn 



%m 



mOST travelers from Paris to Geneva will recall 
the brief stop of the train at the station, and a 
glimpse perhaps of the gaunt gray towers on the 
top of the great hill against the evening sky, looking 
much more like a fortress than a cathedral from the view- 
point below. 

Called the " Rock of Laon," it was in ancient days the 
Celtic Laudunam, and was known to the Romans as Lug- 
dunam Clavatum. 

" Laon is the very pride of that class of town which out 
of Gaulish hill forts grew into Roman and Mediaeval 
cities. None stands so proudly on its height; none has 
kept its ancient character so little changed to our own 
day " (says Marshall) . It was here that Louis, or Lodo- 
wig, who was the famous son of Count Eudes, established 
an illustrious court, presided over by the " brave "^ 
Duchess Gerberga, and here afterwards Charles, their son, 
maintained a successfully defended siege against the on- 
slaught by Hugues Capet on this stronghold. The 
treachery of Asceline the Bishop resulted in the capture 

231 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

of the town, and as a reward, Capet made him " the sec- 
ond Ecclesiastical Peer of France." 

Henceforth the city was famed as the seat of the Cape- 
tian dynasty, whose bishops ruled it until it was captured 
by the Prussians in 1814, when it served as the headquar- 
ters of Bliicher, in his operations against Napoleon L 
After the Battle of Waterloo the French troops attempted 
to reform their shattered lines under its walls. 

Laon was the birthplace of the mother of Charlemagne, 
Lothaire, Louis IV, and Louis V. 

Crowning royally the great hill which dominated the 
town and the plain, the remarkable Cathedral of Notre 
Dame with its many beautiful towers formed a pic- 
turesque feature that once seen could not be forgotten. 
One can only compare it to the towers of Mont St. Michel 
of La Manche, with its encircling battlemented walls, but 
Laon in point of architecture was infinitely the finer of 
the two. 

It is said to have been the work of Bishop Gauthier II 
(de Montagne) of the twelfth century, and built upon 
the site of a previous structure which had been burnt dur- 
ing an uprising in the early part of that century. Origi- 
nally there were four great towers, one at each of the an- 
gles. Of these two remained lacking the spires. The 
fagade was most remarkable for its extremely deep por- 
tals. The two towers, which were square at the base, ter- 

232 



LAON 

minated in octagonal belfries, and the angle buttresses 
supported light two-storied open-work turrets of most 
graceful design. 

The cathedral was remarkable for the square apse, and 
there was a tall lanthorn tower in the center of the church, 
which had two windows separated by buttresses. 

In the " chevet " a rose window was placed above three 
long openings, over which was a gallery between the 
turrets. 

The pulpit was from the Abbey of Val-St.-Pierre. 

From below, the cathedral, as I have already said, 
looked more like a fortress surmounted by a great 
chateau. Strange celebrations, seemingly lacking in re- 
ligious character, were enacted in the cathedral, particu- 
larly those celebrated during the month of December. 
" This, the fete des Innocents, took place in the choir, 
when the children, wearing strange costumes with copes 
occupied the high carved stalls and chanted the 'of- 
fices ' of the mass with every sort of buffoonery, to the 
great delight of the people. 

" Eight days after this comes the ' day of Fools,' dur- 
ing which the chaplain and choristers meet to elect a 
' pope,' who is styled the Patriarch of Fools. Those who 
neglect to participate in this election are expected to pay 
a fine. After a procession the Patriarch is offered a repast 
of wine and bread with great solemnity, and he in turn 

233 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

gives to each chorister a present of corn in payment. 
The whole troop wear the most fantastic ornaments, and 
during the two following days the entire cathedral is 
given over to their buffoonery. After many cavalcades 
by the townspeople the fete terminates in a great proces- 
sion of the ' rabardiaux.' " (VioUet le Due.) 

This celebration degenerated into a simple custom of 
the giving wreaths of flowers following the celebration 
of mass on the Day of Epiphany. 

It is strange that these towns, explored by the present 
writer, should have been so neglected by the tourist. Of 
course, it is chiefly to the artist that they seemed so quaint, 
entrancing and profitable. No such exquisite arrange- 
ments of composition were found in other countries as 
here in France, and really at the doorway of Paris. Of 
course now and then there was trouble for me, because I 
made sketches of these charming localities; and even as 
late as 19 10, when the sketches reproduced in this book 
were made, forty years after the Franco-Prussian War, 
when there seemed to be no possible danger of war in 
France, I was many times in danger of arrest for drawing 
a church or an old wall. Several times my portfolio had 
been seized by officers at the frontier towns, and I had 
been " detained " with more or less brusqueness until the 
superior officer could be summoned, but I must say that 
these occasions usually ended by profuse apologies on the 

234 



LAON 

part of M. le Commissaire, who deplored the activity of 
his men and offered his cigarette case most graciously, 
begging that I should forget the incident and wishing me 
" good luck." But it is perhaps now unnecessary to warn 
the artist abroad to keep away from fortifications, or to 
carry his passports with him. 

Laon to-day is hidden behind a heavy black curtain of 
smoke from the great guns of the Germans. What has 
been the fate of that old gray town is problematical. It 
is said that the Germans have shot away the two great 
towers of the beloved old cathedral, and that the walls 
of the picturesque plateau upon which it rested have been 
razed. Beyond this nothing has been disclosed for the 
two years during which the invader has occupied it. 
Northeast of the cathedral was the thirteenth century 
Bishopric, used for a long time as the Hall of Justice. 
It was erected by Bishop Gamier in 1242. It was a 
rather dismal looking structure, and altogether lacking in 
architectural distinction. Whatever it may have been in 
former days, I ventured to say as much to an advocate 
with whom I chanced to converse at the table d'hote, and 
I shall not soon forget the reproof my criticism called 
down upon me. I learned thereafter to govern my 
tongue, whatever my convictions. The Laonaise bitterly 
resented adverse criticism of any one of their beloved 
monuments. 

235 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Along the edge of the hill below there were unusu- 
ally delightful promenades, shaded here and there by 
thick heavy foliage, through which charming vistas ap- 
peared. 

The long street on the ridge of the embattlemented hill 
wound along most delightfully, bringing the wanderer to 
the old church of St. Martin at the edge of the town. 
This, it is said, was once the appanage of a Premonstra- 
tensian Abbey of the twelfth century. It had two bays 
and a transept, and six small chapels of unique charac- 
ter. According to legend, the first bay was built to en- 
close the tomb of a Sire de Coucy, its benefactor. This 
Sire de Coucy had been excommunicated by the clergy, 
and being thus outside the pale of religion, he had been 
buried without ceremony outside the west door. This 
caused such remonstrance upon the part of the people, 
who loved him well for his great charities, if not for his 
sins, that the clergy relented, and it was necessary to en- 
large the bay to accommodate his grave. 

The twin towers from the last bay are of the thirteenth 
century. Near the entrance were a number of tombs, 
some of them of remarkable richness of design, notably 
that of Jeanne de Flandre, widow of Enguerrand IV, Sire 
de Coucy, Abbess of Saviour-sous-Laon in the fourteenth 
century, and said to have been the work of the Flemish 
sculptor, Pierre de Puez. If this work of art has been de- 

236 



lAon 

stroyed as reported, another unnecessary crime is added 
to the list. 

There was also the low relief figure of a knight in 
armor, evidently of the greatest antiquity, although it 
was dated twelve hundred and something, the first two 
figures being barely discernible. 

The ancient suburb of Vaux has been under bombard- 
ment for more than two years. Little is known to us of 
the extent of the damage it has suffered, but I remember 
a lovely old church of the eleventh century, with a most 
beautiful old choir of a little later period, where the old 
priest, who was considerable of an antiquary, by the way, 
showed me a fragment of tapestry, done in silk and wool, 
and of considerable value, as a specimen of workman- 
ship. He plainly was anxious that I should admire it, 
and to oblige him I did so. He showed me also his books, 
some with good bindings, others worn by use. He 
seemed an innocent sort of man and lonely for com- 
panionship, telling me with simple dignity of his daily 
life in the quiet parish and the details of his office. 

The highest pay of a parish priest, he said, was fifteen 
hundred francs a year ($300) ; the lowest, eight hun- 
dred, of course in addition to his living quarters. He 
eked out his scanty income by the fees paid him at wed- 
dings, christenings, and burials. When I told him of the 
sums paid in America to ministers, his eyes bulged and 

237 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

his under lip bulged comically. Then he wagged his 
head, lifted his arms, shoulders and eyebrows, sighed 
heavily, and changed the subject. 

Poor old fellow, I wonder what has become of him in 
these terrible days. When I left him I gave him a pencil 
sketch of his church which I had made, embowered in 
heavy trees, as a souvenir. I neglected to make another, 
so I cannot picture it here, in this chapter, to my great 
regret. 

Perhaps the greatest, or at any rate the most indefens- 
ible piece of vandalism perpetrated by the retiring armies 
of the invader, was the total annihilation of the great 
castle of Coucy-le-Chateau in March of this year. Coucy 
castle, legend says, was built upon the site given to St. 
Remi by Clovis, in the fulfillment of a condition that the 
former should walk around it while the King enjoyed his 
noonday siesta. Afterwards it was part of the property 
of the Chapter of Rheims for upwards of two hundred 
years. In the year nine hundred and twenty-nine King 
Charles the Simple was imprisoned in its donjon by Her- 
bert, Count of Vermandois. Enguerrand I, founder of 
the house of Coucy, received the castle in fief from the 
Archbishop of Rheims, and from it departed with his 
knights in quest of the Holy Grail and was distinguished 
in the Crusades. His descendant, Enguerrand III, who 
was surnamed the Great, rebuilt the castle, and when he 

238 






■ss-^'n-'-^vm 



*<-^^ 







LAON 

flouted the authority of the Chapter of Rheims, and they 
laid the matter before the king, he answered with the 
words : " Je ne puis faire autre chose pour vous que de 
priere le Sire de Coucy de ne point vous inquieter." In 
the subsequent quarrel with the Chapter of Laon, Enguer- 
rand at the head of his cohort stormed the Cathedral and 
carried off the dean a prisoner to Coucy, where he lan- 
guished at the pleasure of the fiery knight. 

The laws he promulgated and forced upon the barony 
were called " Le Coutume de Coucy." 

The battle of Bouvignes, in which he performed many 
acts of prowess and valor, and also his successes during 
the Albigensian war of 1209 added to his great fame as a 
warrior and caused the league of nobles to propose the 
dethronement of Louis IX, then a child, whose crown 
they offered to Enguerrand. 

So proud were his descendants that they abandoned 
their other titles and called themselves simple " de 
Coucy " and adopted the motto " Roi ne suys — ne 
prince, ne due, ne compte aussi — je suys le Sire de 
Coucy." 

Descendants sold the Chateau, as it was called, and che 
Seigneurie de Coucy to Louis d' Orleans in 1400, who 
made it a duchy, and so amplified and decorated it that 
it became noteworthy throughout the realm. In 1411 it 
was besieged and captured by the royal army, and re- 

239 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

tained until 1419, when it was taken by the troops of the 
Duke of Orleans. In 1423 it was captured by the Eng- 
lish, and again in 1652 by the royal army and dismantled 
by order of Mazarin. At the outbreak it was an " his- 
torical monument " kept up by the state as a museum. 

Coucy-le-Chateau was one of the greatest and most 
splendid relics of the thirteenth century. Nothing re- 
mains of it now. It has been utterly blasted away from 
the foundations. On the heights is only a series of great 
piles of crumpled masonry and pulverized rock. The 
oldest, the strongest, the largest and most historic of the 
castles of Europe is now only a memory. 

So enraged were the French at this piece of wanton de- 
struction, that they refused to bombard the ruins, even 
thougl;! they knew that the invader had intrenched ma- 
chine gunners behind and beneath it. 

Instead the infantry, unsupported by artillery, charged 
across a plain swept by gun fire and wrested the sacred 
ruin from the enemy. 

So terrific was the assault that the Germans could make 
no counter attack. 

Before they left the Germans boasted to the French 
villagers that more than thirty tons of explosives were 
used to destroy the castle. So great was the explosion, 
the peasants who witnessed it from a distance report that 
the great round tower, visible for miles around, seemed to 

240 



LAON 

rise in its vast bulk from the foundations, and slowly 
vanish in a cloud of whitish smoke. So fell Coucy. An- 
other crime added to the already long list against the in- 
vader. 

The official explanation for its destruction coming 
from Berlin, is that " the Castle was not worth more than 
the life of one German soldier, and there are plenty of 
other such castles in southern Germany." 

The best view of the great chateau was that from 
the approach from the town of Laon. My sketch shows 
the ruin in springtime, its battlements rising from the 
trees at its base, its magnificent pinkish gray mass against 
a sky of heavy white cumulous cloud just after a gentle 
rain. 

The small town nestled below it, and still had some 
vestiges of the old walls that formerly protected it. 

There was a small inn bearing the grandiose title: 
" Hotel des Trois Empereurs," whose landlady cooked 
for us the best omelette we ever tasted, and begged us to 
take her daughter to America with us as "maid for 
Madame." The daughter we never saw, by the way. 
She had gone to Laon for the day and we left on the after- 
noon train before she returned, to the great chagrin of 
Madame. 

My sketch shows the chateau on the end of a promon- 
tory. This was approached by a steep and narrow road- 

241 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

way. The great outer court was of irregular form, with 
what is styled a " curtain wall," of remarkable thickness; 
more than twenty feet, authorities claim. Beneath it was 
a subterranean passageway, " so arranged as to be mine 
proof " (Viollet le Due) . The wall was supported by 
ten remarkable towers, three of them circular in form. 
There was a great dry moat between this wall and the 
keep proper, paved with rounded stones, and there was 
a drawbridge lifted by heavy chains which completely 
shut off the inner court of the castle when lifted. On the 
arch of the great portal over this drawbridge was a rude 
sculptured scene depicting a combat between one of the 
" Sires of Coucy " and a lion which, according to legend, 
took place in the nearby wood of Premontre. Near it 
was a sort of stone table supported by three couchant 
lions upon which stood a lion passant. Here each 
year, according to a pretty custom, a young girl of the 
peasant class gave cakes and flowers to the townspeople, 
after which there was a parade by the local fire company, 
and in the evening a " retraite aux flambeaux," in which 
the young men carried lighted torches through the town, 
headed by a drum and fife. 

The tower of the chateau was more than one hundred 
and fifty feet high and three hundred feet in circumfer- 
ence. In the drawing by Viollet le Due it is shown sur- 

242 



LAON 

mounted by a conical roof, and this must have made it 
quite two hundred feet in height. 

" The interior was divided into three floors, once 
covered by ribbed vaulting, which has now perished. 
The upper floors and the platform at the top were reached 
by a winding staircase in the thickness of the wall. In 
the center of each vault was an opening through which 
men in armor could be let down quickly. The two lower 
floors were apparently used for the arms and provisions 
of the garrison." (Hare's " Northeastern France.") 

The donjon, according to Viollet le Due, was the finest 
specimen in Europe of mediaeval military architecture. 
" Compared with this giant," he says, " the largest towers 
known appear mere spindles." So vanished from the 
face of the earth a great architectural treasure destroyed 
simply for revenge. 



243 



Wm 



BWtns 



SNSTEAD of being in appearance " a most vener- 
able and aged town," as one might be led to expect 
from the accounts in the various guides, Rheims, or 
Reims (so variously spelled) was (1910) nothing of the 
sort. Situated on the right bank of the river Vesle in the 
midst of a vast plain encompassed by vine-clad hills, a 
most ideal setting, it was the busy and chief center of 
the champagne trade, and also otherwise occupied in the 
manufacture of both woolen and other fabrics. Until 
recently one of the most picturesque towns in France, 
it was intersected by wide and handsome streets remind- 
ing one of the Parisian boulevards, which although 
convenient gave it quite another character. And this 
" Haussmanization " (if one may so style it) did away 
with its former quaint medisevalness. 

Formerly there was an ideally artistic approach to the 
great cathedral of " Notre Dame," in a quaint narrow 
street lined with strangely gabled houses and small shops 
shown in my sketch, but these have been demolished, and 
a wide straight street, lined with characterless buildings, 

247 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

now forms a very commonplace frame to hold one's first 
view of this noble and magnificent structure, the master 
work of the architects Rob. de Coucy and J. d'Orbais^ 
which Fergusson justly names and qualifies as " perhaps 
the most beautiful structure produced in the middle 
ages." Far down this commonplace street one could see 
the exquisite recessed portals (there are three), with its 
rows of saints, surmounted by the great rose window, 
nearly forty feet in circumference, and above the forty- 
two exquisite lancets, each containing a colossal figure 
representing the Baptism of Clovis, and the Kings of 
France. All detail softened by distance, like unto carved 
tracery upon a jewel casket. 

The three portals, so exquisitely recessed, were adorned 
with some five hundred and fifty statues of various sizes, 
some of them of great antiquity, and many of them on 
close inspection proving to be much worn by the action 
of the elements, or having suffered mutilation in the 
wars. 

Without entering into a tiresome architectural descrip- 
tion, which would be out of place in these pages, one may 
call attention to some of the remarkable details of the 
fagade above the three portals pierced by large windows, 
which was so lavishly decorated with sculpture; to the 
left, Christ in the garb of a pilgrim; to the right, the 
Virgin, and the Apostles, David and Saul; and Goliath. 

248 








rr^ 




RHEIMS 

The twin towers, more than two hundred and fifty feet 
high, which were without spires, were none the less im- 
pressive. The north portal contained statues of the 
Bishops of Rheims from Clovis down, and there was here 
a doorway walled up containing a Gothic tympanum of 
the Last Judgment, the figures of which, however, with 
the exception of the Christ, were greatly mutilated. 

History states that Rheims was known at the time of 
the Roman invasion as Durocortorum. Briefly, about 
the year 352 a. d. the worthy SS. Sixte and Sinice 
came here to preach Christianity, and converted the con- 
sul Jovinus, whose cenotaph is in the archeveche. The 
Vandals arrived forty years later, and captured the town, 
murdering St. Nicaise on the very steps of the cathedral 
which he had founded. The See of Rheims was occupied 
for seventy-five years after the Conquest of Champagne, 
by Clovis, by St. Remi, or Remigius, who was already a 
bishop at the age of twenty- two. He it was who bap- 
tised Clovis in the cathedral, which act gave such renown 
to the place that thereafter the kings came to be conse- 
crated with the oil, which according to tradition was 
brought by a snow white dove in a holy phial (ampoule) 
for the baptism of the first Christian king, and was there- 
after preserved in the Abbey of St. Remi. 

Rheims was taken in 563 by Chilperic, and in 720 by 
Charles Martel, despite the great courage and resistance 

249 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

by the Bishop, St. Rigobert, who was exiled. Here took 
place, too, the interview of Pope Stephen III and Pepin, 
and Charlemagne and Leo III. Also the coronation of 
Louis le Debonnaire by Stephen IV in 816. 

In the following years the Archbishops of Rheims be- 
came world famous, for instance the Scholar Hincmar, 
and Gerbert, who was afterwards Pope Sylvester II, and 
who as a simple monk under the great Adalberon attained 
great celebrity for his lectures. 

Until the fourteenth century Archbishops had temporal 
power over Rheims, coining their money and ruling as 
sovereigns. 

Calixtus II in 1119 held here a council to excommuni- 
cate the Emperor, Henry V. 

In 1429 Rheims was delivered from the English yoke 
by Jeanne d'Arc, who personally gave the keys of the 
town to Charles VII and assisted at his coronation in the 
Cathedral. 

Liibke, writing of the sculptural details of the Cathe- 
dral, says, " All the dignity and grace of the style here 
reaches a truly classical expression. Nevertheless, even 
here, in one of the master works of the time, we find a 
great variety in the mode of treatment. There are heavy 
stunted statues with clumsy heads and vacant expression, 
like the earlier works of Chartres ; others are of the most 
refined beauty, full of nobility and tenderness, graceful 

250 



RHEIMS 

in proportion, and with drapery which falls in stately 
folds, free in movement and with a gentle loveliness or 
sublime dignity of expression; others again are exag- 
gerated in height, awkward in proportion, caricatured in 
expression, and affected in attitude." 

Strange that Liibke could not realize that the sculptor 
produced these contrasts with design, so that the ugly and 
grotesque of some might make the grace and beauty of 
the others the more telling; but such is the quality of the 
Teutonic mind. 

But he has written so appreciatively of the beauties of 
the figures, that we can overlook his shortcomings. He 
further says, " That different hands were employed on 
the same portal (the North Transept) may be seen in the 
forty-two small seated figures of bishops, saints and 
kings, which in three rows fill the hollows of the archi- 
volts. They are one and all of enchanting beauty, grace, 
and dignity; the little heads delightful; the attitudes 
most varied; the drapery nobly arranged, and so varied 
in conception that it would be impossible to conceive 
more ingenious variations." 

Of the smaller portal which contained the beautiful 
figure of Christ in benediction, known as the " Beau 
Dieu," he says : " This is a work of such beauty that 
it may be considered the most solemn plastic creation of 
its time. It shdws perfect understanding and admirable 

251 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

execution of the whole form in its faultless proportions, 
and moreover there is such majesty in the mild, calm 
expression of the head, over which the hair falls in soft 
waves, that the divine seriousness of the sublime Teacher 
seems glorified by the truest grace. The right hand is 
uplifted, and the three forefingers stretched out; the left 
hand holds the orb, and, at the same time the mantle, 
which is drawn across the figure, and the noble folds of 
which are produced by the advancing position of the right 
foot. The following of nature in this masterly figure 
is in all its details so perfect that not merely the nails of 
the fingers, but the structure of the joints is characterized 
in the finest manner." 

Two years ago it was ablaze with all this sculptural 
splendor. Now the picture is replaced by a gray mono- 
tone of fire-swept portals empty of tracery; of gaping, 
blackened lancet window-panes destitute of glass; its 
perfectly designed Gothic arches laced with fantastically 
bent iron bars, and its nave buried in pulverized calcined 
heaps of ashes from which protrude here and there black- 
ened, charred beams, while scattered about are the broken 
fragments of the great bronze bells which once pealed out 
paeons of sound in celebration of imperial coronations. 

Although many have attempted the task, it is difficult 
if not impossible to analyze Rheims, or even adequately 
to describe its vital exquisite quality, its stimulating 

252 



RHEIMS 

originality, or to explain clearly the well nigh incredible 
competence, beauty and delicacy of even its minor details. 
One may dwell upon the glory of its sculpture in pages 
of description, which fail to picture it. Rheims Cathe- 
dral was what may be styled a great consistency, that 
placed it quite in a category by itself. 

It was quite completely without a fault. 

All other cathedrals of France form a chronicle of 
splendor. They record changing epochs, times, and arch- 
itectural impulse. The varying personalities of their 
great designers were wrought out in their details; they 
present the thoughts of many men, each expressing his 
highest thought and ideals, and the result is magnificent 
agglomeration, covering many years of work. With 
Rheims however, which was begun in 1211, the case is 
different. For it was finished within the same century, 
to be exact, in fifty years, and in perfect accordance with 
the original plan and conception. To say that its sculp- 
ture ranked with that of ancient Greece does not magnify 
its importance. To urge that the splendor and artistry 
of its painteld glass was unrivaled, means little now, for 
its disappearance is too recent, too grievous and painful. 
Its eulogy must be written by an abler pen than mine — 
and in a day far hence, when time has softened the 
blow. 



253 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

(Paris, Jan. 10, 1917.) "Albert Dalimier, Under 
Secretary of Fine Arts, made a statement to-day regard- 
ing Rheims Cathedral, which, it has been reported, the 
Pope is anxious to have restored, having asked permission 
to this end from the German authorities." 

" Orders were given by the French Government for 
provisional repairs to the roofs of the Cathedral in 
autumn of 1914," said M. Dalimier, " but we were un- 
able to begin work without an agreement with the mili- 
tary authorities, and they begged us to do nothing. They 
pointed out that the Cathedral was still under German 
fire^ that from Nogent to La Bassee, where the batteries 
firing on the town were installed, everything that passed 
could be distinctly seen by the Germans, and that work- 
men on the Cathedral would therefore be sure to be ob- 
served and fired upon." 

The great interior was four hundred and sixty-six feet 
long and one hundred and twenty-one feet high. Both 
nave and transepts have aisles. Eight bays were in the 
nave, and each transept projected to the depth of a single 
bay. A triforium was above the aisles, and eight ex- 
quisite chapels radiated from the choir. 

The great capitals were covered with beautiful sculp- 
ture, beggaring description. Over the large west portal 
was shown the Martyrdom of St. Nicaise, and over the 
whole west wall was a multitude of small statues in 

254 



RHEIMS 

niches ending in a display of the Massacre of the Inno- 
cents. 

A myriad of these statues filled the whole church. 
Adoring angels too adorned the buttresses of the choir 
chapels. Rich tapestries, fourteen in number, the gift 
of Robert de Lenoncourt in 1530, hung on the chapel 
walls, and there were two magnificent pieces given by 
Cardinal Lorraine in 1570, called the " Tapisseries du 
fort roi Clovis," and others from Archbishop Henri de 
Lorraine in 1633, called the " Perpersack." Some Gobe- 
lins, also, designed in 1848 by Raffaelle, were hung here. 

The large organ was dated 1481, and designed by 
Oudin Hestre, and in the chapel of St. Jean was the thir- 
teenth century monument of Hugues Libergier, the 
architect of St. Nicaise. (This is buried in the ashes, and 
is said to be uninjured.) 

The Treasury included many reliquaries and holy 
objects of priceless value, such as the reliquary of Sanson 
(twelfth century) ; that of SS. Peter and Paul (four- 
teenth century) ; of the Holy Sepulcher (sixteenth cen- 
tury) which was given by the King, Henry II, at his 
coronation; the vessel of St. Ursula, given by Henry III; 
the Chasuble of Thomas a Becket; the Chalice of St. 
Remi; the Reliquary of St. Ampoule, and an immense 
quantity of gold and silver objects given by Charles X. 

It is said that this treasure was removed to Paris when 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Rheims was first threatened with destruction, and that 
it is therefore intact, for which we may be thankful, but 
what of the incomparable shrine which held it? 

More than a year and a half (1915) ago the roof was 
consumed by fire, and was held by authorities to be irre- 
parable, but since then, perhaps daily the bombardment 
has continued mercilessly, simply to destroy what re- 
mains. Even the latest news from the front in France 
does not claim that the invader and iconoclast has been 
driven back fast enough to ensure safety to Rheims. In 
one day (April, 1917) the Germans are said to have 
poured seventy-five hundred shells into the city. Just 
how much of the incomparable fabric of the Cathedral, 
from which all the statuary, all the wonderful glass and 
framework have been pulverized by the blasts from the 
great shells, survives, is not known outside of the town, 
or is concealed by the authorities; but for one thing we 
pray fervently, and that is, that no so-called restoration 
may be attempted or allowed. Let no imitations of 
stone, glass or marble caricature its vanished glories. . . . 
Let it remain, we pray, the living, standing record of an 
infamous crime. Consumed by fire, soaked in blood, 
Rheims, which crowned and sheltered a hundred kings, 
has passed ; deleta est Carthago. 



256 



it. imi 



St wm 



^^ T the foot of a group of tall pointed limestone 
Mm rocks, which seemed to be much higher than the 
•^^ seventy-five feet ascribed to them, nestled this 
most theatrical looking little town on the river Meuse, 
which winds in and out most charmingly through a dis- 
trict once covered with dense forests. All about were 
beautiful gorges between which the river rushed noisily, 
now following the base of a precipice of solid limestone, 
and again laving the roots of large trees growing lux- 
uriantly on the slaty banks. Each of these valleys, each 
breach in the limestone wall, was overgrown with lush 
verdure, contrasting most strikingly with the dark brown 
or gray tones of the cliifs. Hereabouts small towns and 
hamlets, with scant room for the old houses and mills 
clinging to the steeps, thickly occupied the spaces be- 
tween the rocks and the rushing stream. 

This small town of St. Mihiel, with its population 
of about eight thousand inhabitants, is said to have grown 
up around an ancient abbey dedicated to St. Michael, 
established here by some pious monks in the eighth cen- 

259 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

tury, but the landlord of the Hotel du Cygne told me, 
with a shrug of the shoulders, that the abbey was not so 
old as all that; that M. le Fere had informed him that 
the abbey had been built in the seventeenth century; the 
same year as the church; that he wished to set M. le 
Voyageur (myself) right in the matter; not that he cared 
how old or how new it was, but that he, the proprie- 
tor of the Hotel du Cygne, was a truthful man, and no 
one, least of all, a gentleman who had made such a long 
journey as Monsieur the American from New York — 
" bien intendu," should receive any but the most truthful 
information from him, proprietor as he was of the Hotel 
du Cygne. Which long speech he delivered with ap- 
propriate shrugs, gesticulations, and uplifted eyebrows. 

Mine host turned out to be an interesting personality. 
There were many such in these small towns on the banks 
of the Meuse. He was named Camille Robert Joseph 
Laroche, and not only was he a genial and valuable 
" raconteur," but he had a saint for a forebear. Accord- 
ing to his tale, which I have no reason to discredit, more 
than three hundred years ago his ancestor bequeathed 
the entire family patrimony to the church, which in grati- 
tude therefor promptly canonized him, insomuch that 
he now adorns the galaxy at St. Matthias Roche. For 
this great honor and distinction, said mine host, all the 
descendants had ever since been paying, for, deprived 

260 



ST. MIHIEL 

of their estates, they became " hoteliers " and " negoci- 
ants," their only wealth being the good will and esteem 
of the countryside. Thus I had the high honor at St. 
Mihiel of lodging at an inn kept by the scion of a 
saint. 

It was pleasant to arrive at this pretty hill-embosomed 
town when evening was drawing on and the stars, like 
unto glimmering altar tapers in a vast cathedral space, 
were shining forth one by one. 

I sat before the inn door upon a bench with mine host^ 
who had lapsed into silence, and watched the crystal 
disk of the moon over the " Falaise," shining, with that 
peculiar tint which has no name nor likeness on earth; 
that large mystic peace, the charm of a village at even- 
time, brooded in the air: Truly God is known in the 
breath of the still woods ; a very frankincense. 

Some passing girls in groups who had come to see the 
arrivals by train, that puffing, cautiously moving train 
that had come from Verdun, with the mail, the writer, 
and a few " commis-voyageurs," several soldiers on leave, 
and three shovel-hatted priests lent some animation to 
the street. 

Each girl, chattering and laughing, was knitting indus- 
triously. Their eyes were bright and blue; their hair, 
gathered with gay ribbons into knots, was sunny: they 
seemed care-free. 

261 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

The great gray limestone pointed rocks stand sentry 
over St. Mihiel. Upon one stands a Calvary. There 
were fragmented castles round about. Each dominated 
a ridge, stretching away like a line of bulwarks for the 
nestling towns between. I found, in the days of explora- 
tion that followed my arrival, that facing beyond the 
thread of the river, an amphitheater of great beeches, tier 
upon tier, ensconced all. 

One might fancy a couchant lion on guard here, the 
old town lying snug between its outstretched paws, or 
to use another simile as if it had been cast down by giant 
hands and caught in the cleft. 

The town lay in somewhat the shape of a T, the head- 
stroke turned downwards on both sides; the upright 
formed by the long nestling town of the valley, the cross 
bar by the bowed overspread of habitations at the val- 
ley's mouth, one thronged crescent of river, road, and 
terraced verdancy. Just at the point of junction in the 
nailhead was a small convent garden, all scarlet, pink, 
white and dazzling emerald green. One would think 
this quiet, rident town, looking down upon it by morn- 
ing light from the Calvary on the limestone pinnacle, 
a very sanctuary home of dreams. On the contrary, it 
was only a more or less prosaic manufacturing town to 
the inhabitants who lived among all this picturesqueness 
without realizing it. Listening from my perch at the 

262 



ST. MIHIEL 

foot of the Calvary on the " Falaisc," I could hear the 
hum of looms. 

At the clang of the midday Angelus they stopped short 
for the brief hour of rest and repast. For a thousand 
years some of the old walls had lain much as I saw 
them, for St. Mihiel figures in territorial documents of 
A. D. 950. It is said that there was a time when the out- 
stretched paws of the lion were joined by huge stone- 
turreted walls. These closed in the town and made a 
sanctuary. The Barons of St. Mihiel were greatly dis- 
tinguished personages; they played a noble part in the 
Crusades. I found their records quaintly set forth upon 
tombs in archaic words, the meaning of which was often 
entirely puzzling and obscure, I made notes of these 
names and dates, but they were carelessly mislaid. 
Should one be curious about them, I doubt not that 
Froissart has recorded them in all their state and glory. 
St. Mihiel claimed the usual list of heroes and warriors> 
and her claim was granted without question. 

The old market place was graced by lime trees, and 
the ruined walls were overgrown with ivy and vine of 
luxuriant leafage, hiding crack and gap cunningly. The 
aged towers still cleaved to the rock by leave of the roots 
of beech and fir tree, whose spreading roots are more 
lenient foes to masonry, perhaps, than German mines. 
Imagine the great empty shell of the donjon, with a 

263 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

rugged fagade, ivy grown and rook-haunted, a ruined 
chapel-apse with its suspended " piscina and aumbry," 
(thus named for me correctly by a scholarly architect 
friend, else I should not have known how to call them) , 
its Gothic columns and arches ; this sheer wall overhung 
the town perilously. 

{ There was a story told of the old bell's tolling at the 
death of a child. Within the donjon is the remains of 
the well, fifty feet deep. In olden days a young chate- 
laine threw herself down this well, her child in her arms, 
to escape the brutality of the besiegers, in the fourteenth 
— or was it the thirteenth ? — century. There were twin 
brothers who did the same, in some remote period, after 
refusing to open the gates to Wenceslaus, or was it Bald- 
win of the Iron Arm? There was a cavern at the bottom 
where the knights-proprietors hid their gains during the 
sieges. All these and many other tales of fear, blood and 
bravery were told at St. Mihiel. 

Some years ago, they said, a young maid drawing water 
from the well, discovered a golden bracelet at the bottom 
of the bucket; but beyond a few fragments of bone and 
some pieces of rusty iron that is all that has been dis- 
covered of treasure. 

It was said that the great hidden treasure is guarded 
by an immense serpent, which, when any one was so fool- 
hardy as to attempt its recovery, blew out his candles 

264 



ST. MIHIEL 

and then devoured him at leisure. On the night be- 
fore Maundy Thursday, at the hour of twelve, the master 
knight, clad all in his Templar's armor regalia, and bear- 
ing the scarlet cross upon his breast, rides the ruins with 
his cohort : but to no one save a true and devout Catholic 
was this vision vouchsafed, so it was said. St. Mihiel 
was unusually quaint in many ways. 

One did not find sheep grazing anywhere. When by 
some rare chance they were brought to town by a drover, 
the sensation produced was equal to that which might 
be caused by the appearance of an elephant or a camel. 
Children ran after the poor frightened dusty things, tug- 
ging at their wool, some trying to climb upon their backs, 
and the whole square was in an uproar. There were 
plenty of pigs about, and these, curiously, were in charge 
of a professional pig handler, who took them to pasture, 
and cared for them for a weekly wage. It was not un- 
common on a morning ramble to come upon a drove of 
them occupying the whole road to the limit of space: a 
symphony in pink amid a cloud of dust. 

The little town was the residence of the great Cardinal 
de Retz, who is said to have written his memoirs here. 
The Rue Notre Dame, which led to the ancient abbey, 
and the church of St. Michael, had some very fine old 
fifteenth century houses, which were still (in 1910) in 
an excellent state of preservation. The great church 

265 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

dated in part from the seventeenth century, and contained 
a remarkable statue of the Madonna, attributed to 
Ligier Richier, a pupil of Michelangelo, who also carved 
the noted sepulchral monument of Rene de Chalons, 
Prince of Orange, in the church of St. Pierre at Bar-le- 
Duc. There was here too, a figure of a child surrounded 
by skulls, with two of which she was playing. Said to 
be by Jean Richier, this was a most beautiful piece of 
seventeenth century miniature work. 

The Madonna mentioned above was depicted as faint- 
ing in the arms of St. John, the pose being most re- 
markable. One of the curiosities of the old church was 
the remains of a stone rood loft, a structure said by archi- 
tects to be very rarely met with. The ruined remains of 
the abbey at the east end of the church were found near 
some sort of public offices, which should have been cleared 
away so that they might be seen the better. In the Rue 
des Ingenieurs was the house of the sculptor, Ligier 
Richier, dated 1538. And in the church of St. Sepulcre 
was the famous tomb by this master, consisting of thir- 
teen figures, showing the Virgin, Mary Cleopas and John, 
and some dice players, all of great realism and character. 

This whole region is filled with legend, related with 
such great circumstantial detail that one might not ven- 
ture, on pain of giving offense, to show disbelief, no 
matter how fantastic the story. There was one curious 

266 



ST. MIHIEL 

old house which I saw in the Rue de la Vaux, which had 
a rude frieze of great animals below its roof, the effect 
being so singular as to be well nigh unbelievable. What 
its history or origin I was unable to discover. Indeed 
much mystery was made of it, when I inquired; much as if 
I had asked an indiscreet question. So I desisted. 

In the neighborhood were the most delightful walks 
and rambles, overgrown with verdure, leading past small 
farmsteads embosomed in thick forests, in a region filled 
with myth and legend. 

Following the course of the Meuse, dotted with small 
mills taking toll of her one by one, whose splashing mossy 
wheels she cheerfully spins; eddying here and there, 
bright gardens, one was led to a certain gushing foun- 
tain, under a shelving bay of ferny rock, and this was 
named " the Easter fountain." It would be strange in- 
deed if a fountain in this region had not a story con- 
nected with it. This one was no exception, and here 
follows this story of the Easter fountain, as told by 
Brother Antoine of St. Mihiel. 

In the thirteenth century of our redemption Count 
Reni, in the castle on the heights, governed this region; 
at Commercy reigned Count Alan. A common sorrow 
bound the two to friendship ; their young wives had faded 
in their first bloom. The chatelaine of Reni had left a 
boy of four years, and the Lady Elsa a girl baby at the 

267 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

cost of her life. This babe, sweet souvenir, was also 
named Elsa by her mourning, inconsolable father. All 
fetes and celebrations were thenceforth banished from 
the two castles, the lords of which sought comfort only 
in the high and holy offices of the Church, and in mutual 
companionship. Pope Honore, at the call of John of 
Brienne, King of Jerusalem, summoned all knights to the 
Holy Crusade. In this call the two bereft counts found 
the command of the Most High. Burying their grief in 
the forests of St. Mihiel, they set their affairs in order, 
gave over their domains to the care of overseers, and 
taking down shield and great cross hiked sword, ranged 
themselves " cap a pie " beneath the banner of their high 
and knightly leader, the Emperor Frederic. 

Count Reni leaves his little Elsa to the care of her 
godmother and the abbess under the protection of his 
faithful aged squire, Pere Carol. So passes by the period 
of ten or more years, young boy and girl grow up even 
as brother and sister, ranging the paths of the scented 
wood, hand in hand; learning together the lore of God's 
wisdom of flower and bird, and with the pious help of 
the abbess, the wondrous stories of the lives of the saints 
in those great vellum bound, brass clasped office books 
of the altar. Occasionally to the castle comes a wander- 
ing singer, who teaches them in song the doughty deeds 
of the absent soldiers of the Cross, naming their fathers 

268 



ST. MIHIEL 

gloriously. To these songs the children, now grown tall 
in stature, listened with shining eyes and panting breath. 
Thus they dreamed of the brave fathers they had hardly 
known. 

Now that the young Count had come almost to man's 
estate, the old esquire thought of presenting him at the 
Court of Rheims. It was summertime, and the time had 
come for the parting. Elsa wandered alone through the 
wooded paths of the forest. But the once loved scenes 
of nature had lost half their charm for her. To pass the 
time she set about acts of devotion and mercy; visiting 
the poor huts of the woodsmen, dispensing tender chari- 
ties to their families and teaching the children to pray 
to the saints and the Holy Fathers. 

So passed the long months of summer and then came 
autumn in a blaze of red and golden leaves. Now the 
young Count, learning at the Court of Rheims that the 
two Counts were shortly expected to return from the 
Crusades in the East, returned to the castle with his 
retinue, and passing a small cottage by the roadside on 
the river bank, caught a glimpse of his former playmate 
and companion, on her knees, binding up the wounds of 
a poor charcoal burner, who had been injured by the 
fall of a tree trunk. But, lo: there was something in 
the expression of her face that was all new to him. Dis- 
mounting from his horse, he knelt before her, as to a 

269 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

saint. She was to him, all at once, an aureoled angel; a 
burning reverence overcame him, surging from head to 
foot, and he knew in that instant that for him time had 
brought its fullness to him, and that henceforth they 
were to be inseparable. 

Entranced, he studied her face, so different to him from 
those which he had seen at court at Rheims, exquisite as 
those faces were. But this one I Ah, now it was clear 
to him that he had all his life never had a soul. 

Elsa had gazed into his eyes unable to speak, her hands 
clasped upon her bosom. Now she gave a cry of glad- 
ness, but stopped all at once, for a new and strange quick- 
ening in her heart : Young Alan is transfigured in her 
sight, like unto St. Michael. 

Alan seizes her hand, he calls her his sweet flower of 
innocence, and so swears to be her loyal knight even 
unto death ; thus they remained hand in hand in ecstasy, 
while she prayed that the blessed mother watch over them 
forever more. At the castle the pair knelt before the 
good abbot, and then the old Esquire and the Abbess 
joined their hands and blessed them. 

When the news of the Count's arrival at the coast, 
and young Alan's home coming went forth, the whole 
region rejoiced, the bells rang in the churches, and the 
vassals assembled to greet the young seigneur. From 
her bower in the lofty tower of the castle Elsa watched 

270 



ST. MIHIEL 

the road along the river. It was eventide when the 
sounds of approaching cavalry broke the stillness. Soon 
the great drawbridge of the castle fell with a clang of 
chains, and young Alan was clasped in the arms of the 
returned Crusader. 

In the great banquet hall, hung with flags and trophies 
of the chase, the retainers thronged to welcome and ac- 
claim their returned lord and master. Great flagons and 
cups of wine were passed, and the vaulted stone roof 
rang with the loyal shouts of " Long live Count Alan ! " 

But, strange to say, all was not well with Alan the 
Crusader. A dark cloud sat upon his knitted brow, and 
his worn thin hand bent upon the knob of the great chair 
upon which he sat. Elsa, in a very heaven between the 
joys, plied him with questions which he answered 
vaguely, and finally bade the churls to bring the torches 
from the walls, and gave the word of dismissal to the 
throng. 

Much troubled, Elsa gave her white brow to her father's 
kiss, bade him good night; and very shortly the castle 
was in darkness, and silent save for the measured tread 
of the sentinels on the parapet. 

On the following day the Abbess told Elsa that the 
two counts, once so inseparable, had for certain reasons 
become enemies, that the young Count of Bre must never 
more be named within the hearing of her father; and 

271 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

that henceforth she must forget her love for Alan, which 
now was quite hopeless. Broken hearted but obedient, 
the young girl, bathed in tears, spent hours before the 
altar upon her knees, but devoted herself to her father 
whenever he would see her. 

Autumn came, and brought winter in its train. Young 
Alan she had not seen since the day of his return when 
they met at the charcoal burner's cottage in the wood. 
The fete of Noel came in with a great snow storm. The 
Count no more went forth, nor did he attend at chapel. 
The abbot had admonished him upon one occasion — " If 
ye from your hearts forgive not those who — " whereupon 
the Count had struck the rail with his hand, arose, and 
left the chapel. 

Affairs at the other castle were quite similar, and the 
lord had refused to offer his hand in friendship to his 
old friend Count Alan, swearing a terrible oath that 
he would wither away unshriven ere he did such a thing. 
Thus matters stood at the two castles, and two fond 
hearts were breaking, while pride held out. As to the 
young Alan, he had well-nigh lost his reason but for 
the kindly and wise advice of the old Abbot. 

Then one day the aged chatelaine lay upon her death 
bed, with Elsa bathed in tears beside her. 

" Call thee thy father, child," she said, " I have much 
to say to him before I go." Of the conversation between 

272 



ST. MIHIEL 

them nothing was ever known, but a marked change came 
over the old knight, after the chatelaine had been laid 
at rest beneath the altar in the chapel. He passed the 
whole night before the Stations of the Cross, and cried 
aloud for mercy, striking his breast with both hands. 

In the morning he called Elsa and told her that he 
was to set out upon a long journey, and she begging that 
he allow her to accompany him he at length consented, 
and so together, with an escort, the old knight and the 
tender maiden set out through the forest. 

It was the Holy Week of the Passion, and there were 
bands of pious pilgrims met upon the road, nearly all 
afoot, for that was the custom. Seeing this the old knight 
dismounted, and bidding the escort take the horses and 
return to the castle, they joined one of the processions, 
and continued on foot as far as the Calvary which was 
at the bend in the road toward St. Mihiel. Here they 
paused and let the procession proceed without them. 

It was fair spring time ; the fairest flowers bloomed all 
about them, and wild birds in the trees hymned the 
Resurrection of God. Elsa's heart sang in unison with 
the birds. She suspected the object of the old knight's 
pilgrimage. 

When they were near the castle of Count Alan, all 
at once she saw on the road the Count and his son, arm 
in arm, approaching them. When they met there was an 

273 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

instant's silence, then cried out the old knight, "Alan! 
I come to thee I " 

" And I was coming to thee to ask thy forgiveness," 
replied Count Alan with shining eyes; and they embraced, 
retiring arm and arm beneath the great beech trees, leav- 
ing Elsa and young Alan face to face. Elsa's hands were 
clasped upon her heaving bosom, her brimming eyes raised 
to the sky; then she knelt down beside the cliff in the 
moss, and young Alan knelt beside her. All at once 
Elsa's voice burst forth in the holy canticle, " Benedicite, 
opera Domini, Domino — fontes benedicite," and as she 
uttered the last words of the canticle, there burst forth 
from the limestone rock, just where their united tears 
had dropped, a tiny stream of crystal clear water. Soon 
this grew larger, bubbling forth like pearls into the sun- 
light, and making a channel for itself, flowed onward, 
dancing and leaping as for joy. And thus kneeling there 
at the fountain of their united tears the knights found 
them. . . . 

And this is the story of the fountain of the lovers' tears 
at St. Mihiel, where broken friendships were said to be 
healed by one draft of the waters, partaken of by both 
be it understood. 

One wonders now as to the fate of St. Mihiel-on-the- 
Meuse ; is that gray old church entirely destroyed by the 
rain of shells that has beaten upon it for more than two 

274 



ST. MIHIEL 

years? And what remains of the little town clustering 
against the two tall limestone peaks all clad with green 
verdure, where all was so prosperous and peaceful before 
the onslaught of the destroying legions'? 



275 



^i^rkii 



t)nkn 



^I^^PON well nigh every headland of any considerable 
IkJ size on the banks of the winding river Meuse, 
^^ * there glowered a vine clad castle in a more or less 
ruinous state, and usually at its foot slept a farmstead, a 
village, or a town. Over each stream-laved promontory 
and every high hill there have been fought great and small 
battles year in, year out, through the ages since the time 
of Charlemagne. One could not wander far here in any 
direction without lighting upon some shattered monu- 
ment of human passion and pride. " Here might reigned 
supreme with fantastic honor as its handmaid; at ambi- 
tion's footstool religion and right were vassals." One 
stands before one of these shattered, time-battered castle 
walls, and tries perchance to picture the siege of old, with 
the crowds of iron-armed men busily sapping the walls. 
Through the ragged breaches made by the great stone- 
hung rams, they discharged into the interior by quaint 
cumbrous machines large stones, blazing bundles of fag- 
ots, and even carrion, while from the besieged warriors 
on the battlemented walls above came streams of molten 

279 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

lead, and showers of heavy iron barbed bolts. The coun- 
try about during these battles was considerably damaged, 
and there must have been an appalling noise over it all, 
but somehow one cannot picture any very great carnage 
as a result, at least nothing like that which took place 
here at Verdun in the great battle of 1916, nor any such 
destruction of property. 

This town of Verdun, now upon every one's lips, was 
the ancient Roman " Verodunam " and ever has held a 
most important place in European affairs and history. 
Captured by Charlemagne, in the dim days of a. d. 843, it 
was divided among his three grandsons, Charles the Bald, 
Lothaire, and Lewis the German. Thus divided, the 
members of the Empire, Teutonic and Gallic, were never 
again united. Until the year 1552 the town, once the 
seat of a powerful bishop, remained free, and in 1648 it 
was formally united to France after the peace of West- 
phalia, when Austria relinquished the three great bish- 
oprics of Verdun, Toul, and Metz. Verdun fell to the 
Prussians after a fierce bombardment lasting only five 
hours, and a story is told of how a bevy of fair young 
girls appeared in the public square before the Hotel de 
Ville, where the conquerors were drawn up, and made 
peace-offering to them of the "bon-bons " for which, even 
up to the outbreak of the great world war, and invasion 

280 



A 



^^^ctCj 



m : T 







VERDUN 

of 1914, Verdun was famous. These bon-bons were 
known locally as " Dragees." 

After the battle of Valmy, the revolutionists recap- 
tured the town and, it is said, sought out these same 
young maidens and put them to death. 

The town, which was rather attractive and picturesque, 
stood in a sort of plain, on the river Meuse, which divides 
here into several streams. It was surrounded by fortifi- 
cations, considered impregnable, which were planted with 
large trees, and there was a very satisfying Mediaeval 
gateway flanked by two great towers, while an attractive 
street called the " Promenade de la Digne " followed the 
banks of the river. The sights of the town, however, 
were very soon exhausted. If one followed the Avenue 
de la Gate, one came to the Porte St. Paul, and just 
beyond it the Palais de Justice and a large new college 
building. Then there was the Porte Chaussee, which 
was very old and had two fine crenelated towers. There 
were several bridges crossing the river Meuse, and along 
its banks a collection of ancient many colored houses, all 
so battered, bewindowed, and balconied, as to be quite 
fascinating pictorially but certainly very dirty and 
" smelly." Ranged along the water washed walls of 
these quaint houses, were many barges and washing boats, 
painted in charming tones of green and brown, and these, 

281 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

reflected in the water, made delightful pictures for the 
painter and snap shots for tourists. 

A very good regimental band played in the square 
once a week, and this formed an excuse for a promenade 
of the townspeople, and a social gathering at the small 
cafes, for the post prandial " bock." 

There was a Hotel de Ville of the seventeenth century, 
lacking however in character, in the courtyard of which 
were displayed some bronze cannon, given to Verdun by 
the government in recognition of its heroic resistance in 
the Franco-Prussian war of 1870. Near the cathedral 
were the remains of an ancient gate called the Porte 
Chatel. The Cathedral, the towers of which were high 
above the town, though lacking spires, was not unimpres- 
sive, but it had been so often rebuilt and changed, as to 
have few vestiges of the structure begun in the twelfth 
century. The two towers were square and topped by bal- 
ustrades of little or no character. The buttresses of the 
apse were, however, of architectural value, and the apse 
had some curious and remarkable sculptures, while the 
triple nave was of noble proportions and had some Gothic 
vaulting. 

A curious bas relief representing the Assumption 
was shown in the transept; but beyond these features 
the Cathedral had little or nothing to offer, save a very 
beautiful fifteenth century cloister, which we nearly 

282 



VERDUN 

missed seeing, connecting the Cathedral with the grand 
seminaire. 

The great Citadel, renowned throughout Europe, upon 
which such high hopes centered in the beginning of the 
present war, and which resisted the efforts of the army 
of the Crown Prince, occupied the ancient site of the 
Abbey of St. Vannes, of the tenth century. It was so 
rigidly guarded that no one was permitted to enter it. 
From a roadway called the Promenade de la Roche one 
might idle away the hours appraising the picturesque 
valley of the Meuse. 

Most of those who visited Verdun, and stopped at 
" des trois Maures " or " du Cog Hardi," which were the 
rival hostelries, usually started to explore the town after 
" dejeuner," and brought up at the Cathedral as a finish. 
But to him who stayed awhile, and rambled about aim- 
lessly outside the town, there was no end of curious beau- 
ties, of small scenic and antique discoveries, of quaint 
nooks, and groupings and surprises: all about were 
flowers and vines, and long white winding roads, past 
small mills embosomed in verdure, and wayside shrines 
where old women seemed rooted telling their beads. 

And night beyond the town brought her own peculiar 
graces, when the mazy ravines lay hidden in the glim- 
mering dusk, and the lights of Verdun twinkled across 
the valley, or answered to their images in the stream. 

283 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

In towns of this region one was impressed with the 
prevalence of Colonels and Generals. Each hotel seemed 
to be provided with an officer, looking, too, much like 
all the others. They were invariably somewhat red 
faced and " puffy," bored in manner, and while slow of 
speech, were not mentally active or entertaining. In- 
variably, too, they were anglers, displaying in sporting 
knee breeches stockinged calves of the shape of " ten 
pins." They seemed mysterious as to their families, but 
were undisguisedly gallant in their attentions to the fair 
sex, and invariably headed the " table d'hote " at which 
universal deference was accorded them. 

Once, in a small town, I fancied that the spell was 
broken, and that no General or Colonel was in the hotel, 
but on the third day I learned that " M. le General was 
confined to his room with the gout." This room was on 
the floor above, and although the proprietor often assured 
us that " M. le General " would, in all probability, be 
able to come down on the morrow, and occupy his wonted 
seat at the head of the table, he did not come, and so 
we never saw him. 

All about Verdun were charming small villages, par- 
ticularly along the river Meuse, and if one liked one 
could take a slow moving train, which went through a 
long black tunnel, and at length entered the valley of 

284 




--ff'i1^'"'ltl i 









VERDUN 

the Moselle — but that was another adventure which is 
not to be set down in this volume. 

For this summer end of 1910, the valley of the Meuse 
was to us all sufficient. Here, while dozing among these 
small towns and villages, bordering on the vine clad 
river's splash and sparkle, resting by night in quaint clean 
and generally well kept inns, the world beyond became 
a figment. Curious fortresses still were to be found 
among these old rocks; and on the plateau the antiqua- 
rian, the geologist, the botanist may find much food for 
wonder and study, if they searched. But if they did, 
at least I never met them there. Should tourist by chance 
pass that way, it was by train, or swiftly speeding auto- 
mobile all begoggled of eyes, and mummied by great- 
coat, mindful only of the smoothness of the winding 
road, or the consumption of gasoline. But from all such 
doth Dame Nature hide her soul. 

Then, tiring of this aloofness, one could always return 
to the bustle of Verdun, and find entertainment in the 
tortuous streets between the amorphous houses, with 
their aged carven doors surmounted by strange old trade- 
emblems, their overhanging gables; across the rough 
cobbled market place with the old town hall of pepper- 
box turret, its arcade, and its dusty hall where the 
" Echevins " held their courts of justice, and where the 

285 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

peasants chaffered their wares on market days, through 
the ancient gateways, and over the old bridges reflected 
in the eddying river. 

I like to think of Verdun, as we saw it "en fete " that 
late summer morning. The town was gay with wreaths 
and flags and streamers, the windows aflame with 
flowers. In the Cathedral since five o'clock there had 
been scarce space to kneel for the toll of masses unbroken 
at the altar. White clad priests came and went through 
the aisles. The air was tense and restless with mur- 
mured prayer and the incessancy of " sacring-bells." 
When the last " housel " had been taken, the last " Ite " 
said, thousands of people filled the streets, lining the 
narrow ways in thick serried ranks, crowding the doors 
and windows, and stretching in a double row across the 
bridge. 

Over all is a sense of waiting, as for a solemn thing 
about to happen, and this thrills the multitude. At the 
bridge end I could see the figure of a priest gesticulating, 
raised somewhat above the crowd, clad in a cope of gold 
and white, but I was too far away to hear his voice. 
Soon came a procession headed by a banner bearer, and 
I caught a glimpse of the scarlet of my lord the Arch- 
bishop, amid a cloud of filmy laced priestly cottas, and 
the violet surplices of chanting men, set in a great splash 
of white robes. Here and there a banner shone all red 

286 



VERDUN 

and gold, and at the end of the bridge was a great golden 
Crucifix. 

Here a short sermon was preached, and this being over 
there came a stir and a heave in the crowd, which fell 
back along the ways. Forward moved the cross, twelve 
banners escorting it; tapers of wax tall and thick blazed, 
and from upcast censers sprang misty spirals of fragrance, 
blue as the hills beyond the town. 

From a murmur which sweeps through the throng of 
people, a chant grows in volume until it is like the sound 
of a vast organ. All at once the gay burners, the smoking 
censers, and the gorgeously clad priests vanish around a 
turning in the street; the spell is broken; the crowd, 
before so orderly, swarms like bees in the hive, and here 
and there are couples dancing and jostling all unmindful 
of each other's proximity, but performing with stolid 
good humor. The spirit of the dance takes hold of the 
crowd, it spreads across the bridge, and sets of four, six 
and eight form in rows, holding one another at handker- 
chief length, eyes dancing with eyes to limbs' measure. 

There was little of passion but much of poetry in this 
dance, a sort of polka with three steps forward and two 
back, a serpentine swinging unison. Words are poor 
painters of the scene: like unto a moving wheatfield 
swept by two winds, or the sea surge whose oscillant 
ebb and flow is so fascinating. And so throughout the 

287 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

day, and far into the night the celebration continued, 
with meetings — rejoicings — and mild potations sacra- 
mental of reunited friendships ; but not until long after 
the celebration ended and common events regained do- 
minion over the streets and square, did one cease to see 
mentally the swinging sway of that dance, or hear the 
pounding, insistent, snarling drone on the barrel organs 
of that reiterated tune. . . . And this is how one likes 
to recall old, old Verdun, now so pathetically battered 
and shell torn, its cathedral towers ragged against the 
sky, and its Citadel dismantled. 



288 



J^tmtm tmd t^ mdid 



I^imtm anil ttt^ Wd 

^S^ LIGHTING from the ordinary train (none other 
Mm stops here apparently) at the dismal little stucco 
^^ station at Domremy-Maxey-sur-Meuse, in a down- 
pour of rain, we asked the little roly-poly chef de la Gare, 
who wore a tall red cap ornamented with a band of gold 
lace, all a size too large for his round bullet head: — 
First, could we have a conveyance to Domremy? — Sec- 
ondly, was there an inn there? — Thirdly, did he think 
that we could be accommodated there"? 

To the first question he returned explosively, — " No, 
there was no conveyance; there had never been a con- 
veyance there of any sort." To the second : " No, there 
was no inn there — but there was one at Domremy-la- 
Pucelle, ' toute en face,' near the church ; no great thing, 
you understand — M'sieur and Madame — but not so 
bad, and clean of a surety." 

To the third : " Yes, possibly ; stay, as it rains torrents, 
I shall go over there and enquire for M'sieur and 
Madame. 'Tis but a short walk for me, and I have the 
paletot which resists the rain." 

291 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

And go he did, in the driving rain, too ; in spite of our 
remonstrances he trudged out into the rain-soaked road, 
and we watched him out of sight down the footpath lead- 
ing from the station towards the river. And this is but 
one of the instances of consideration and kindness that 
one received in this charming countryside. Briefly, we 
were well housed at Domremy among the poplars, and 
though the sheets were damp from the rainy weather, a 
huge wood fire lighted for us by Madame at the inn soon 
dried them, and a good supper revived our spirits. Here 
charming days may be spent among the scenes filled with 
memories of la Pucelle. 

There are two villages here, besides Vaucouleurs, which 
equipped Jeanne for her campaign, and whence she set 
forth aided by Baudricourt, the Governor. The larger 
is Greoulx, perhaps half a mile away. The hamlet is 
probably much as it was during the time of Jeanne; a 
collection of small low white houses on either side of 
the roadway, squalid and odorous from the dung-hill be- 
fore each doorway. Here sit Madame and the children, 
who play with the chickens and droves of small pink pigs 
running up and down in every direction, and in and out 
of the open doors. 

The street now widens into a sort of " place " before 
the church with a square, pinnacled tower in which is a 
clock. The interior with low vaulting is rich with fes- 

292 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

toons of drapery, wreaths and some very ornate silk ban- 
ners, all displayed with much taste in honor of la Pucelle, 
the sainted Jeanne. To right is a fine monument, dated 
fifteenth century, embellished with figures of Jacob and 
Didier Tierselin, who were the sons of her godmother, 
who, it will be remembered, was a witness in her behalf 
at the trial. 

Here at Domremy the maid Jeanne is regarded and 
honored as a saint, and over the altar are large paintings 
of her representing her mission, and the events. One of 
them is of the appearance of the Archangel to the young 
girl. 

Outside the door is a bronze statue of the Maid of 
Orleans by E. Paul (1855) and farther on is a very ill- 
kept little square in which is a most absurd monument 
erected by some one who is nameless, in 1820. Just op- 
posite a sort of court guarded from the droves of little 
pink pigs by an iron railing, is the quaint " lean to " sort 
of cottage in which Jeanne la Pucelle, called by the Eng- 
lish Joan of Arc, was born in 1411. Above the arched 
door is displayed the emblazoned royal arms of France, 
together with those assigned to Jeanne and her family 
by the King, Louis XI. Above is a Gothic canopied niche 
in which is a kneeling figure of la Pucelle, reproduced, 
it is said, from the one inside the cottage, bearing the 
date of 1456. Here the principal room is the kitchen, 

293 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

in which, however, only the middle beam of the ceiling 
is original. 

It is said that the kneeling statue in armor was posed 
for by a niece of Jeanne, 

Behind the kitchen is a dark little closet, in which 
Jeanne is said to have slept. It is lighted by a tiny win- 
dow high up in the wall, and here against the wall is a 
chest said to have been used by Jeanne. 

Domremy, in her honor, was, up to the time of the 
Revolution, exempted from any taxation. 

The hill where Jeanne heard the mysterious voices is 
about a mile farther on, and a sort of basilica was being 
built here to mark the spot, to be further enriched by a 
statue of the Maid by Allard. 

The house of Jeanne was cared for by the sisters of 
charity who conducted a school and a small shop where 
the pilgrims bought medals and souvenirs. 

On the other side of the railway line was a small chapel, 
to which it is said Jeanne made a pilgrimage once a week 
on Saturday, placing a lighted wax taper before the altar. 

On the 6th of January, 1428, this young girl, the 
daughter of simple peasants, humble tillers of the soil, 
of good life and repute, she herself a good, simple, gentle 
girl, no idler, occupied in sewing and spinning with her 
mother, or driving afield her father's sheep, and some- 
times even, when her father's turn came round, keeping 

294 



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DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

for him the whole flock of the commune, was fulfilling 
her sixteenth year. ("Jeanne d'Arc," by M. Wallon, 
Vol. I, p. 32.) It was Joan of Arc, whom all the neigh- 
bors called Joannette. She was no recluse; she often 
went with her companions to sing and eat cakes beside 
the fountain by the gooseberry bush, under an old beech, 
which was called the fairy-tree ; but dancing she did not 
like. She was constant at church, she delighted in the 
sound of the bells, she often went to confession and com- 
munion, and she blushed when her friends taxed her with 
being too religious. In 1 42 1 , when Joan was hardly nine, 
a band of Anglo-Burgundians penetrated into her coun- 
try and transferred thither the ravages of war. The 
village of Domremy and the little town of Vaucouleurs 
were French and faithful to the French kingship; and 
Joan wept to see the lads of her parish returning bruised 
and bleeding from encounters with the enemy. Her rel- 
atives and neighbors were one day obliged to take flighty 
and at their return they found their houses burnt or 
devastated. Joan wondered whether it could possibly be 
that God permitted such excesses and disasters. In 1425, 
on a summer's day, at noon, she was in her father's little 
garden. She heard a voice calling her, at her father's 
right side, in the direction of the church, and a great 
brightness shone upon her at the same time in the same 
spot. 

295 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

At first she was frightened, but she recovered herself 
on finding that "it was a worthy voice"; and at the 
second call she perceived that it was the voice of angels. 
" I saw them with my bodily eyes," she said six years 
later to her judges at Rouen, " as plainly as I see you; 
when they departed from me I wept and would fain have 
had them take me with them." 

The apparitions came again, and exhorted her " to go 
to France for to deliver the kingdom." She became 
dreamy, wrapt in constant meditation. " I could endure 
no longer," said she at a later period, " and the time went 
heavily with me as with a woman in travail." 

She ended with telling everything to her father, who 
listened to her words anxiously at first, and afterwards 
wrathfully. He himself one night dreamed that his 
daughter had followed the King's men-at-arms to France, 
and from that moment he kept her under strict superin- 
tendence. 

" If I knew of your sister's going," he said to his sons, 
" I would bid you drown her; and, if you did not do it, I 
would drown her myself." 

Joan submitted: there was no leaven of pride in her 
sublimation, and she did not suppose that her intercourse 
with celestial voices relieved her from the duty of obey- 
ing her parents. 

Attempts were made to distract her mind. A young 
296 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

man who courted her was induced to say that he had a 
promise of marriage from her and claim the fulfillment 
of it. Joan went before the ecclesiastical judge, made 
affirmation that she had given no promise and without 
difficulty gained her cause. Everybody believed her and 
respected her. 

In a village hard by Domremy she had an uncle whose 
wife was near her confinement; she got herself invited to 
go and nurse her aunt, and thereupon she opened her 
heart to her uncle, repeating a popular saying which had 
spread indeed throughout the country : 

"Is it not said that a woman shall ruin France and a 
young maid restore it? " 

She pressed him to take her to Vaucouleurs to Sire 
Robert de Baudricourt, captain of the bailiwick, for she 
wished to go to the dauphin and carry assistance to him. 

Her uncle gave way, and on the 13th of May, 1428, 
he did take her to Vaucouleurs. 

" I come on behalf of my Lord," she said to Sire de 
Baudricourt, " to bid you send word to the dauphin to 
keep himself well in hand and not to give battle to his 
foes, for my Lord will presently give him succor." 

" Who is thy Lord? " asked Baudricourt. 

" The King of Heaven," answered Joan. 

Baudricourt set her down and urged her uncle to take 
her back to her parents " with a good slap o' the face." 

297 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

In July, 1428, a fresh invasion of Burgundians oc- 
curred at Domremy, and redoubled the popular excite- 
ment there. Shortly afterwards the report touching the 
siege of Orleans arrived there. Joan, more and more 
passionately possessed with her idea, returned to Vau- 
couleurs. 

" I must go," said she to Sire de Baudricourt, " for to 
raise the siege of Orleans. I will go should I have to 
wear off my legs to the knee." 

She returned to Vaucouleurs without taking leave of 
her parents. " Had I possessed," said she to her judges 
at Rouen, " a hundred fathers and a hundred mothers 
and had I been a king's daughter, I should have gone." 

Baudricourt, impressed without being convinced, did 
not oppose her remaining at Vaucouleurs, and sent an ac- 
count of this singular young girl to Charles, Duke of 
Lorraine, at Nancy, and perhaps even, according to some 
chronicles, to the King's court. 

Joan lodged at Vaucouleurs in the house of a wheel- 
wright, and passed three weeks there, spinning with her 
hostess and dividing her time between work and church. 
There was much talk in Vaucouleurs of her " visions " 
and her purpose. 

John of Metz (also called John of Novelomport) , a 
knight serving with de Baudricourt, desired to see her, 
and went to the wheelwright's. 

298 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

" What do you here, my dear? " he said. " Must the 
King be driven from his kingdom and we become Eng- 
lish? " 

" I am come hither," answered Joan, " to speak to 
Robert de Baudricourt, that he may be pleased to take 
me or have me taken to the King; but he pays no heed to 
me or my words. However, I must be with the King be- 
fore the middle of Lent, for none in the world, nor kings, 
nor dukes, nor daughter of Scottish king can recover the 
Kingdom of France; there is no help but in me. Assur- 
edly I would far rather be spinning beside my poor 
mother, for this other is not my condition; but I must 
go and do the work because my Lord wills that I should 
do it." 

"Who is your Lord?" 

" The Lord God." 

" By my faith," said the Knight, seizing Joan's hands, 
" I will take you to the King, God helping. When will 
you set out? " 

" Rather now than to-morrow ; rather to-morrow than 
later." Vaucouleurs was full of the fame and sayings of 
Joan. 

Another knight, Bertrand de Poulengy, offered, as 
John of Metz had, to be her escort. Duke Charles of 
Lorraine wished to see her, and sent for her to Nancy. 
Old and ill as he was, he had deserted his duchess, a 

299 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

virtuous lady, and was leading anything but a regular 
life. He asked Joan's advice about his health. 

" I have no power to cure you," she said, " but go back 
to your wife and help me in that for which God ordains 
me." 

The Duke ordered her the sum of four golden crowns, 
and she returned to Vaucouleurs, thinking of nothing 
but her departure. 

There was no want of confidence and good will on the 
part of the inhabitants of Vaucouleurs in forwarding her 
preparations. John of Metz, the knight charged to ac- 
company her, asked her if she intended to make the jour- 
ney in her poor red rustic petticoats. 

" I should like to don man's clothes," answered Joan. 
Subscriptions were made to give her a suitable costume. 
She was supplied with a horse, a coat of mail, a lance, a 
sword, the complete equipment indeed of a man-at-arms; 
and a king's messenger and an archer formed her train. 

Baudricourt made them swear to escort her safely, and 
on the 25th of February, 1429, he bade her farewell, and 
all he said was : 

" Away then, Joan, and come what may." 

Charles VII was at that time at Chinon, in Touraine. 
In order to reach him Joan had nearly a hundred and fifty 
leagues to go, in a country occupied here and there by 
English and Burgundians and everywhere a theater of 

300 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

war. She took eleven days to do this journey, often 
marching by night, and never giving up man's dress, dis- 
quieted by no difficulty and no danger, and testifying no 
desire for a halt save to worship God. 

" Could we hear mass daily," said she to her compan- 
ions, " we should do well." 

They consented only twice, first at the Abbey of St. 
Urban, and again in the principal church of Auxerre. 
As they were full of respect though at the same time also 
of doubt toward Joan, she never had to defend herself 
against familiarities, but she had constantly to dissipate 
their disquietude touching the reality or the character of 
her mission. 

" Fear nothing," she said to them; " God shows me the 
way I should go; for thereto I was born." 

On arriving at the village of St. Catherine-de-Fierbois, 
near Chinon, she heard three masses on the same day and 
had a letter written thence to the King to announce her 
coming and to ask to see him; she had gone, she said, a 
hundred and fifty leagues to come and tell him things 
which would be most useful to him. 

Charles VII and his councilors hesitated. The men 
of war did not like to believe that a little peasant girl 
of Lorraine was coming to bring the King a more effectual 
support than their own. 

Nevertheless, some, and the most heroic amongst them, 
301 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Dunuois, La Hire, and Xaintrailles, were moved by what 
was told of this young girl. The letters of Sire de Bau- 
dricourt, though full of doubt, suffered a gleam of some- 
thing like a serious impression to peep out; and why 
should not the King receive this young girl whom the 
Captain of Vaucouleurs had thought it a duty to send'? 
It would soon be seen what she was and what she would 
do. The politicians and courtiers, especially the most 
trusted of them, George de la Tremoille, the King's 
favorite, shrugged their shoulders. What could be ex- 
pected from the dreams of a young peasant girl of nine- 
teen"? Influences of a more private character and more 
disposed toward sympathy — Yolande of Arragon, for 
instance. Queen of Sicily, and mother-in-law of Charles 
VII, and perhaps also her daughter, the young queen. 
Mary of Anjou, were urgent for the King to reply to Joan 
that she might go to Chinon. She was authorized to do 
so, and on 6th INIarch, 1429, she, witli her comrades, ar- 
rived at the royal residence. 

At the very first moment two incidents occurred (says 
M. Wallon) still further to increase the curiosity of 
which she was the object. 

Quite close to Chinon some vagabonds had prepared 
an lunbuscade for the purpose of despoiling her and her 
train. She passed close by them witliout the least ob- 
stacle. The rimior went that at her approach they were 

.^02 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

struck motionless, and had been unable to attempt their 
wicked purpose. Joan was rather tall, well shaped, 
dark, with a look of composure, animation and gentle- 
ness. A man-at-arms, who met her on the way, thought 
her pretty, and with an impious oath, expressed a coarse 
compliment. " Alas," said Joan, " thou blasphemest thy 
God, and thou art so near thy death I " He drowned him- 
self, it is said, shortly after. 

Already popular feeling was surrounding her marvel- 
ous mission with the halo of instantaneous miracles. 

On her arrival at Chinon she first lodged with an honest 
family near the castle. For three days longer there was a 
deliberation in the council as to whether the King ought 
to receive her. But there was bad news from Orleans. 
There were no more troops to send thither, and there was 
no money forthcoming; the King's treasurer, it is said, 
had but jour crowns in the chest. If Orleans was taken, 
the King would be perhaps reduced to seeking refuge in 
Spain or in Scotland. Joan promised to set Orleans 
free. 

The Orleanese themselves were clamorous for her; 
Dimois kept up their spirits with the expectation of this 
marvelous assistance. It was decided that the King 
should receive her. She had assigned to her for residence 
an apartment in the tower of the " Coudray," a block of 
quarters adjoining the royal mansion, and she was com- 

303 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

mitted to the charge of William Bellier, an officer of the 
King's household, whose wife was a woman of great piety 
and excellent fame. 

On the 9th of March, 1429, Joan was at last introduced 
into the King's presence by the Count of Vendome, high 
steward, in the great hall on the first story, a portion of 
the wall and fireplace being still visible in the present 
day. 

It was evening, candle light; and nearly three hundred 
knights were present. Charles kept himself a little aloof 
amidst a group of warriors and courtiers more richly 
dressed than he. 

According to some chroniclers, Joan demanded that 
" she should not be deceived, and should have pointed 
out to her him to whom she was to speak." Others affirm 
that she went straight to the King, whom she had never 
seen, " accosting him humbly and simply, like a poor 
shepherdess," says an eye-witness, and according to an- 
other account, " making the usual bends and reverences, 
as if she had been brought up at court." 

Whatever may have been her outward behavior, 
" Gentle dauphin," she said to the King (for she did not 
think it right to call him king, so long as he had not been 
crowned), "my name is Joan the maid; the King of 
Heaven sendeth you word by me that you shall be 
anointed and crowned in the city of Rheims, and shall 

304 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

be lieutenant of the King of Heaven, who is King of 
France. It is God's pleasure that our enemies, the Eng- 
lish, should depart to their own country; if they depart 
not, evil will come to them, and the kingdom is sure to 
continue yours." 

Charles was impressed without being convinced, as so 
many others had been before, or were as he was on 
that very day. He saw Joan again several times. She 
did not delude herself as to the doubts he still enter- 
tained. 

" Gentle dauphin," she said one day, " why do you not 
believe me? I say unto you that God hath compassion 
on you, your kingdom and your people; St. Louis and 
Charlemagne are kneeling before Him making prayer for 
you, a thing which will give you to understand that you 
ought to believe me." 

Charles gave her audience on this occasion in the pres- 
ence of four witnesses, the most trusted of his intimates, 
who swore to reveal nothing, and according to others, 
completely alone. " What she said to him there is none 
who knows," wrote Allan Chartier a short time after (in 
July, 1429) " but it is quite certain that he was all radi- 
ant with joy thereat, as at a revelation from the Holy 
Spirit." 

M. Wallon continues this fascinating and intimate ac- 
count of the Maid's mission with most minute detail 

305 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

through her early triumphs and ordeal, down to the days 
of her capture, confinement at Rouen, the capital of the 
English in France, and her trial and execution in that 
town. 

"She arrived (in Rouen) on the 23rd of December, 
1430. On the 3rd of January the following year, an 
order from Henry VI, King of England, placed her in 
the hands of the bishop of Beauvais, Peter Cauchon. 

Some days afterwards, Count John of Luxembourg 
accompanied by his brother, the English Chancellor, and 
his Esquire, the Earl of Warwick, and Humphrey, Earl 
of Stafford, the King of England's constable in France, 
entered the prison where Joan was confined. 

Had John of Luxembourg come out of sheer curiosity, 
or to relieve himself of certain scruples by offering Joan 
a chance for her life? 

" Joan," said he, "I am come hither to put you to ran- 
som, and treat for the price of your deliverance; only 
give us your promise here no more to bear arms against 
us." 

" In God's name," answered Joan, " are you making a 
mock of me. Captain? Ransom me? You have neither 
the will nor the power ; no, you have neither." 

The Count persisted. 

" I know well," said Joan, " that these English will 
put me to death; but, were they a hundred thousand more 

306 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

' Goddafns ' than have already been in France, they shall 
never have the kingdom." 

" What is to be thought of her ? What is to be thought 
of the poor shepherd girl from the hills and forests of 
Lorraine, that like the Hebrew shepherd boy from the 
hills and forests of Judea — rose suddenly out of the 
quiet, out of the safety, out of the religious inspiration, 
rooted in deep pastoral solitudes, to a station in the van 
of armies, and to the more perilous station at the right 
hand of kings? 

" The Hebrew boy inaugurated his patriotic mission 
by an act, by a victorious act, such as no man could deny. 
But so did the girl of Lorraine, if we read her story as it 
was read by those who saw her nearest. Adverse armies 
bore witness to the boy as no pretender; but so they did 
to the gentle girl. Judged by the voices of all who saw 
them from a station of good will, both were found true 
and loyal to any promises involved in their first acts. 

"Enemies it was that made the difference between 
their subsequent fortunes. The boy rose to a splendor 
and a noon-day prosperity, both personal and public, that 
rang through the records of his people, and became a by- 
word amongst his posterity for a thousand years, until 
the scepter was departing from Judah. 

" The poor forsaken girl, on the contrary, drank not 
herself from that cup of rest which she had secured for 

307 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

France. She never sang together with the songs that rose 
in her native Domremy, as echoes to the departing steps 
of the invaders. She mingled not in the festal dances at 
Vaucouleurs which celebrated in rapture the redemption 
of France. No! for her voice was then silent; no! for 
her feet were dust. Pure, innocent, noble-hearted girl ! 
Whom, from earliest youth, ever I believed in as full of 
truth and self-sacrifice, this was amongst the strongest 
pledges of thy truth, that never once — no, not for a 
moment of weakness — didst thou revel in the vision of 
coronets and honor from man. Coronets for thee I Oh, 
no I Honors if they come when all is over, are for those 
that share thy blood. Daughter of Domremy, when the 
gratitude of thy king shall awaken, thou wilt be sleeping 
the sleep of the dead. Call her. King of France, but she 
will not hear thee. Cite her by the apparitors to come 
and receive a robe of honor, but she will be found ' en 
Contumace.' When the thunders of universal France, 
as even yet may happen, shall proclaim the grandeur of 
the poor shepherd girl that gave up all for her country, 
thy ear, young shepherd girl, will have been deaf for 
centuries. To suffer and to do, that was thy portion in 
this life; that was thy destiny; and not for a moment was 
it hidden from thyself. Life, thou saidst, is short; and 
the sleep which is in the grave is long; let me use that 

308 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

life, so transitory, for the glory of those heavenly dreams 
destined to comfort the sleep which is long I 

" This pure creature — pure from every suspicion of 
even a visionary self interest; even as she was pure in 
senses more obvious — never once did this holy child, as 
she regarded herself, relax from her belief in the darkness 
that was traveling to meet her. She might not prefigure 
the very manner of her death ; she saw not in vision the 
aerial altitude of the fiery scaffold, the spectators without 
end on every road pouring into Rouen as to a coronation, 
the surging smoke, the volleying flames, the hostile faces 
all around her, the pitying eye that lurked here and there 
until nature and imperishable truth broke loose from arti- 
ficial restraints — these might not be apparent through 
the mists of the hurrying future. But the voice that 
called her to death, that she heard forever. 

" Great was the throne of France even in those days„ 
and great was he that sat upon it ; but well Joanna knew 
that not the throne nor he that sat upon it was for her; 
but on the contrary, that she was for them; not she by 
them, but they by her, should rise from the dust. 

" Gorgeous were the lilies of France, and for centuries 
had they privilege to spread their beauty over land and 
sea, until in another century the wrath of God and man 
combined to wither them; but well Joanna knew, early 

309 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

at Domremy she had read that bitter truth, that the lilies 
of France would decorate no garland for her. Flower 
nor bud, bell nor blossom, would ever bloom for her." 
(Thomas De Quincey.) 

And now comes in this, which is perhaps the final year 
of the great war, a strange story from a small town in the 
Loire region near Cholet, of another illiterate peasant 
girl named Clotilde Perchaud, seemingly the reincarna- 
tion of Jeanne, who likewise sees visions and hears voices. 
Brought up on one of the small farms on the edge of the 
hamlet of Puy-Saint-Bonnet, this girl, now about twenty 
years old, since the age of fourteen has been of a strange 
personality. Instead of following the fairs and dancing 
at the village festivals like the other young girls of the 
neighborhood, Clotilde has always kept aloof, avoiding 
the young men who would offer her attentions, and de- 
voting herself to devotions at church, and prayers in her 
squalid room in the farmhouse granary, where she had 
constructed an altar. So strange were her actions at the 
village school that the good priest advised her parents 
to keep her at home, as she would not study her lessons, 
but preferred to sit with clasped hands, and her eyes fixed 
in a wrapt gaze at the ceiling, to the demoralization of 
the scholars, who at length came to believe her half witted, 
and ceased to consider her. Not so, however, the elders. 
Soon it became known that this strange girl was a clair- 

310 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

voyant, and the more credulous consulted her as to future 
events, but these became dissatisified because all of the 
girl's prophecies had to do with events beyond the ken 
of the simple folk of the neighborhood; with kings and 
heavenly hosts, with saints in armor waving banners and 
leading armies on to victory. Thus passed the life of 
this young peasant girl during the peaceful years between 
fourteen and twenty, until the great war broke out and 
armed hosts led by princes indeed invaded her unhappy 
land. 

So in the field below the red tiled roofs of her village 
of Puy-St.-Bonnet, Clotilde Perchaud erected to the 
Virgin a rude altar of field stones, which she trimmed 
with green boughs, and here she passed all her spare time, 
praying and seeing visions in the sky, while upon the 
horizon mighty guns boomed, and at night the flashes 
could plainly be seen. 

Soon this altar became a rendezvous for the neighbors, 
and even for those of the more remote villages from which 
the young men had gone forth to fight for France, and 
to this young girl were brought pictures of the absent 
soldiers at the front in the trenches and written prayers 
for their safety. That she possessed some strange power 
was admitted by even the most skeptical, for her responses 
to those who had loved ones missing led to their being 
found in distant camps as prisoners, or wounded in hos- 

311 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

pitals in distant parts of the country. In some instances, 
it is reported, this strange girl was able to give the names 
in full of those long missing, and information so detailed 
and circumstantial as to be marvelous. These matters 
were brought to the attention of the priests, and were in 
turn reported by them to the heads of the church, finally 
reaching the ears of the Bishop of Angers, who had her 
brought to his palace. Here she confronted unabashed 
a conclave of priests. The Bishop is said to have dressed 
himself in the ordinary black cassock of a priest, in order 
to test the young girl's power of divination ; an ordinary 
priest wearing the Bishop's robes, and being seated on 
the throne ; but to the amazement of all in the room, the 
girl turned from him, and kneeling before the real Bishop, 
asked his blessing upon her and her mission. 

To him she announced, then, that a white robed angel 
had appeared to her above her altar in the fields, and to 
the strains of heavenly music charged that she had, as a 
pure and blameless maid, been selected to deliver their 
beloved France from the hands of the invader. 

She presented to the Bishop the book in which she had 
written the words spoken to her on many occasions by the 
" shining angel in white." This book, says the account 
from which this is taken, " is partly illegible and almost 
entirely illiterate ; rudely illustrated in a sort of futurist 

312 



DOMREMY AND THE MAID 

style." Its contents are said to be most perplexing and 
wonderful. 

" Savants and students of religion who have examined 
the book assert that it shows a knowledge of the primal 
principles of theology, which indicates that the author 
has the clearest insight into the fundamentals of Roman 
Catholicism, but is apparently not gifted with the power 
to translate those ideas into fluent French. Throughout 
the work are passages in Latin, Greek and Hebrew, yet 
she apparently had less than the usual schooling of a 
French child." 

The Bishop of Angers was so impressed with her atti- 
tude and her evident earnestness that he sent her under 
escort by nuns, to the Archbishop-Cardinal Amette at 
Paris. To him she demanded that she be at once taken 
to the heights of Montmartre, so that she might see the 
sun rise there over Paris. In this she was humored, and 
standing with the nuns and priests before the Basilica of 
the Sacred Heart on Montmartre, at sunrise, as the first 
beam shone upon the great gilded cross on the tower, she 
recited in a loud voice the vow which she had taken to 
deliver France from the invader. 

Since this, it is said no one has been allowed to talk to 
Clotilde, and she is said to be at the convent in the Ave- 
nue Victor Hugo. Here she is under observation of the 

313 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

nuns, who each send reports of her prayers and prophecies 
to the Cardinal. A correspondent who was permitted to 
see her from a distance in the convent garden, where she 
walked, followed at a distance of several paces by the 
nuns, describes her as a rather tall girl, clad in somber 
baggy black robes, very light of step and walking with 
her head thrown back and her eyes directed heavenward. 
Her carriage reminded him of " Genee, Pavlowa, or some 
other dancer," and he speaks of her as having " a wealth 
of filmy hair, which because of its fineness, seemed to float 
about her like a cloud, and only partly covered by a re- 
ligious headgear," and he could see, too, " her hands, 
which are lily white and tiny, and tender, as those of the 
most pampered lady, despite the fact that the girl has 
done chores which in peace times would belong to men 
even on the French farms where the women are accus- 
tomed to labor long and hard." 

A strange story; but then these are strange times, and 
who shall say that this is unworthy of credence? 



314 



(Son(lti0ton 



iSomlttston 



€^rt^ ESCITIS qua hora fur veniet " (Ye know not in 
III what hour the despoiler cometh) were the words 
•^^ of an inscription carved on the capstone of a 
church porch in the fifteenth century by a monkish stone- 
cutter, overlooking a smiling valley in Picardy. That 
valley is now a waste place ; its once populous and peace- 
ful villages are in ruins; its fruitful orchards are gone; its 
murmuring streams have overflown their banks, choked 
with the debris of war. No church towers are visible, nor 
are there any forests left in the blasted expanse of shell- 
torn earth. The joy felt by the people of this ravaged 
land over the retreat of the invader, is turned to bitter- 
ness by the sight of so much wanton destruction, for they 
realize that this once peaceful smiling land, the richest 
region of France, is now a great desert waste strewn with 
ruins of the priceless records of her glorious achievements 
in the world of art. And this loss of these irreplaceable 
monuments is especially bitter to a people so attuned to 
beauty. With a contemptuous disregard for the accumu- 
lated animosity of the whole world, the Imperial high 

317 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

command seems bent upon leaving its hall mark upon the 
evacuated country. Acknowledging its inability to hold 
Rheims any longer, it retires its great guns to a locality 
from which it sends hundreds of shells crashing into that 
hapless town, and these are mainly aimed at the ruins of 
the great Cathedral. " The ruin even of ruins," cries a 
correspondent of the Tribune; adding, " In so many of 
the military transactions of the Hun you may perceive 
the hatred of humanity that actuates him, his longing to 
glut upon some personal victim the passion for destruc- 
tion that is in his soul." 

Philip Gibbs, perhaps the fairest and most moderate of 
war correspondents, in describing the retreat of March, 
1917, deals with the aspect of the country beyond the 
tract of shell craters, the smashed barns and country 
houses and churches, the tattered tree trunks, and great 
belts of barbed wire : " Behind the trenches are two 
towns and villages in which they had their ' rest billets,' 
and it is in these places that one sees the spirit and temper 
of the men whom the British are fighting. 

" All through this war I have tried to be fair and just 
to the Germans, to give them credit for their courage and 
to pity them because the terror of war has branded them 
as it has branded the British. 

" But during these last days I have been sickened and 
saddened by the things I have seen, because they reveal 

318 



CONCLUSION 

cruelty which is beyond the inevitable villainy of war. 
They have spared nothing on the way of their retreat. 
They have destroyed every village in their abandonment 
with systematic and detailed destruction. Not only in 
(the towns of) Bapaume and Peronne have they blown 
up or burned all the houses which were untouched by 
shell-fire, but in scores of villages they laid waste the 
cottages of poor peasants, and all their little farms, and 
all their orchards. At Bethonvillers, to name only one 
village out of many, I saw how each house was marked 
with a white cross before it was gutted with fire. The 
Cross of Christ was used to mark the work of the devil, 
for truly this has been the devil's work. 

" Even if we grant that the destruction of houses in 
the wake of retreat is the recognized cruelty of war, there 
are other things which I have seen which are not par- 
donable, even of that damnable code of morality. In 
Baupaume and Peronne, in Roye and Nesle and Lian- 
court, and all these places over a wide area the German 
soldiers not only blew out the fronts of houses, but with 
picks and axes smashed mirrors and furniture and even 
picture frames. . . . There is nothing left in these 
towns. Family portraits have been kicked into the 
debris of the gutters. The black bonnets of old women 
who lived in these houses lie in the rubbish heaps, and by 
some strange pitiful freak these are almost the only signs 

319 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

left of the inhabitants who lived here before the soldiers 
wrecked their houses. 

" The ruins of houses are pitiful to see when done de- 
liberately even when shell-fire spared them in the war- 
zone, but worse than that is the ruin of women and 
children and living flesh. 

" I saw that ruin to-day in Roye and Nesle. At first 
I was rejoiced to see how the inhabitants were liberated 
after being so long in hostile lines. . . . The women's 
faces were dead faces, shallow and mask-like and branded 
with the memories of great agonies. The children were 
white and thin, so thin that the cheek bones protruded, 
and many of them seemed to be idiot children. Hunger 
and fear had been with them too long." 

This is the reverse of the pictures I found, during those 
calm and beautiful summer days of 1910, in that sunny 
and prosperous land. Pictures framed with quaint cus- 
toms; the simple pleasures of fete days enjoyed by a 
happy and prosperous peasantry, all unmindful of the 
terrible days so soon to come upon them. " Nescitis qua 
hora fur veniet." How prophetic the warning words of 
that old monk inscribed upon the capstone of that little 
church overlooking the green plains of Picardy ! 

And now what is left in place of the gray old churches, 
the quiet monasteries, the fruitful farms and flocks and 
the dense forests? Where now shall we look for the 

320 



CONCLUSION 

gleaming white walls of the turreted chateaux, the 
precious mossy towers of mediaeval ruined castles; the 
somnolent quaint towns with wandering streets filled 
with timbered, carved and strangely gabled houses of 
half forgotten periods; the sleepy deserted market places 
over which towered architectural treasures of town halls 
famed throughout the world. 

Where shall the artist seek the matchless chateaux 
gardens, which took centuries in the making? Where 
seek the still reaches of silent canals crossed here and 
there by arched stone bridges, all shaded by great trees 
casting cool shadows in midday, or the vast dim interiors 
of cathedrals marked with the skill of many ages, — filled 
with the aroma of incense, and the inspiration of centuries 
of prayer? 
" The old order changeth, giving place to new." 
But at least one may be thankful now to have been 
privileged to know and to have seen these wonderful and 
beautiful remains of that " old order." And this feeling 
of gratitude tempers somewhat one's fury at the result 
of this invasion and destruction. But one would not 
have these sacred remains disturbed; there must be no 
attempt at restoration of these matchless monuments, at 
the hands of well-meaning municipalities. Rheims, 
Arras, Soissons, Laon, must be left mainly as they now 
lie prostrate, lasting memorials for future ages. 

321 



VANISHED HALLS OF FRANCE 

Leave to Dame Nature the task of draping them with 
green clinging vines, and embossings of velvet moss. 
So let them remain in their solemn majesty, monuments 
to the failure of an imperial order unhampered by the 
love of mankind or the fear of God. 



THE END 



322 



INDEX 



a Becket, Thomas, 131 
Abelard, 131, 137 
Adriensis, Al., 117 
Amiens, 57 

" Cathedral, 57 

" " Peace of," 68 
Arras, 17 

Cathedral, 20, 24, 33 

" Chapel of the Virgin, 24 

" Chateau d'Eau, 36 

Citadel, " La Belle Inutile," 

26 
Hotel de Ville, 23 

" Library, 26 

" Market Place, 19 

" Musee, 26 

" Palace of, St. Vaast, 35 

" Seminary, 26 

" tapestry, 30 

" Town Hall, 17 

Bapaume, 319 

Batiste cloth, origin of name, 80 
Baudri, Bishop of Noyon, 147 
Beauchamp, Octave, " Cites Meur- 

tries," 152 
Bethonvillers, 319 
Borinage district, the, 124 
Bossuet, 180 
Boulger, D. C, " Belgian Life," etc., 

127 
Bouvignes, Battle of, 239 
Breughel, 116 
Brouwer, 117 



Cambric cloth, origin of name, 80 



Cambrai, and the Small Towns, 79 
Cathedral, 81 
Chateau de Belles, 83 
Church of St. Gery, 82 
" Esplanade, 80 
" Grange aux Dimes, 84 

Hotel de Ville, 81 
" League of, 

Carpeaux, 1 14 

Charlemagne, 143, 250, 280 

Charles, Count of Valois, 50 

Charles of Lorraine, 299 

Charles the Bold, 280 

Charles V, 119 

Charles VH, 301 

Chartier, Allan, 305 

Chilperic, 249 

Chinon, 303 

Clovis, 249 

Cluny, Abbey of, 150 

Conclusion, 317 

Coucy-le-Chateau, 109, 172 

Cram, Ralph Adams, 32, 143 

da Cortona, P. A., 117 

de Baudricourt, Sire Robert, 297 

de Broglie, Emanuel, 83 

de Coliquy, Admiral, 102 

de Lannoy, Sire, 114 

de Monstrelet, Enguerrand, 81, 179 

de Montmorency, Constable, lOi 

d'Epinay, Madame, 1 14 

De Quincey, Thomas, 310 

Desmoulins, Camille, 108 

Dominichini, 182 

Domremy and the Maid, 291 



321 



INDEX 



Domremy-la-Pucelle, 291 
Dore, Gustav, 152 
Duke of Enghien, The, 102 
Duke of Nevers, The, 103 

" Easter Fountain," The, at St. 

Mihiel, 267 
Emmanuel-Philibert, Duke of Savoy, 

101 
Emperor Rudolph, 107 
Epehy, 87 

Fenelon, Archbishop of Canabrai, 80 
Fergusson, 248 
Fossin, Abbe, 185 

Gibbs, Philip, 318 

Godfrey, Leonie, 152 

Greoulx, 292 

Guibert of Nogent, 148 

Guide (Rem), 117, 182 

Guizot, " History of France," 152 

Ham, 109 

Hare's " Northeastern France," 24 
Heine, Heinrich, 69 
Hemonys, The, 81 
Henry 11, 101, 105 
Henry VI, of England, 306 
" Hindenburg Line," Lille, 54 
HioUe of Valenciennes, 81 
Honnecourt, 85 

Huet, C. B., " The Land of Rubens," 
47 

Jacquerie, The, 178 
Jeanne d'Arc, 110, 250, 293 
John of Hainault, 108 
John of Luxembourg, 306 
John of Metz, 298 
Jordaens, 116 



" Ladies Peace," The, 80, 117 
Laon, 231 

Church of St. Martin, 236 
Lassigny, 169 
Lemaire, 1 14 
Liancourt, 319 
Lille, 43 

Church of St. Maurice, 49 

" Church of St. Sauvcur, 49 
Church of St. Andre, 53 

" Exchange, 45 

" Hotel de Ville, 49 

" Market Place, 45 

" Military Hospital, 49 

" Musee Wicar, 47 

" " Notre Dame de la Trielle," 

53 

" Palais des Beaux Arts, 48 

" Rihour Palace, 47 

" Siege by Philip, 50 
" Lion of Flanders," The, 52 
Lothaire, 280 
Louise of Savoy, 118 
Louis de Luxembourg, 109 
Louis le Debonnaire, 133, 250 
Louis Napoleon, Prince, 110 
Louis XI, 114 
Louis XIV, 1 13 
Louis the Fat, 146 
Liibke, 251 

Marcoing, 85 

Margaret of Austria, 1 18 

Marshall, Herbert, " Gothic Archi- 
tecture in England," 62 

Martel, Charles, 249 

Meaux, 177 

" Cathedral, 197 

" Hotel de Ville, 177 

Metsys, 117 

Michelangelo, 48 

Montorgueil, Georges, 184 



322 



INDEX 



Napoleon, at Lille, 46 
Neets, the Younger, 117 
Nesle, 319 
Noyon, 143 

Cathedral, 143 

Commune of, 148 
Nymegen, Treaty of, 1 14 

Orleans, 303 

Paix de Dames, 80, 117 
Pascal II, Pope, 149 
Pater, Walter, " Miscellaneous Stu- 
dies," 67 
Pepin, 250 

le Bref, 133 
Perchaud, Clotilde, 310 
Peronne, 73, 319 

Church of St. Gery, 75 
" Hotel de Ville, 75 

Ligue of 1577, 75 
Philip II of Spain, 99, loi 
Pourbus (younger), 117 
Prince of Conde, The, 102 

Raffaele, 255 
Raismes, Forest of, 87 
Raphael, 48, 182 
Rheims, 247 

Cathedral, 139, 248 
Roubaix, 44 
Rouen, 306 
Roye, 319 

Rubens, 26, 36, 50, 82, 87, 117 
Ruskin, 61 
Ruxtiel, 180 

St. Amand, Legend of, 89 
St. Amand-les-Eaux, 86 
St. Mihiel, 259 

" Easter Fountain," 267 
St. Omer, 113 



St. Quentin, 97 

Collegiate Church, 100 
" Hotel de Ville, 97 

Hotel du Cygne, 98 
Place du Huit Octobre, 

99 
Siege of, 102 
Sarrazin, Jacques, 143 
Seghers, 117 
Soissons, 131 

Abbey of St. Medard, 136 
Cathedral, 131 
Church of St. Crepin, 136 
Hotel de Ville, 136 

Teniers, 117 
Titian, 48 

Triforium defined, 60 
Turenne, 114 

Valenciennes, 1 13 

Church of St. Gery, 

115 
Ecole des Beaux Arts, 

Hotel de Ville, 116 
Maison du Prevost, 

117 
Musee of Paintings, 

116 
no lace now made in, 

113 

the Lycee, 115 
Valentinian I, 114 
Valmy, Battle of, 281 
Van Aelst, 117 
Van Balen, 117 
Van den Gheyns, The, 87 
Van de Velde, 117 
Van Dyck, 26 
Van Goyen, 117 
Van Mieris, 117 



323 



INDEX 

Van Oost, 117 Viscount de Turenne, 103 
Vauban, 53 

Vaucouleurs, 292 Wallon, M., 302 

Verdun, 279 Wartelle, Madeline, 34 

" Cathedral, 282 Watteau, Antoine, Louis and Frances, 
Porte Chatel, 282 114 

Villers-Guizlain, 85 Wouverman, 117 
Vinckboons, 117 



324 



